


Brother's Unknown

by RougueShadowWolf



Series: 15 Minutes [15]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Alpha Derek Hale, Child Abuse, Daddy Peter Hale, F/M, Hurt Stiles, Jackson and Stiles are Brothers, Kid Jackson, Protective Derek, Protective Jackson, Protective Peter, Sheriff Stilinski is a Bad Parent, The Hale Fire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-01-18 20:57:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 46,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1442578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RougueShadowWolf/pseuds/RougueShadowWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every family has their secrets, some have plenty others just a few; some secrets begin with a family and spreads to several, some families share their secrets and work as one to hide them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This week of punishment for poor judgment is slowly killing me. So, I got these tidbits; Jackson, Stiles, and the Hale’s are related. Abusive parents/parent, Alpha Derek, and that was all they gave me and I wrote something stupidly obvious!  
>  Oh, I should explain, I decided to twist and turn a few things like the timeline between almost everything; Jackson is a few years older than Stiles and like Stiles he was born human and he does take the bite from Derek and becomes a member of his pack, no Cora, and Scott was bitten by Peter who was nuts at the time… am I forgetting something?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are more secrets in Beacon Hills than just werewolves. There are brothers raised in different houses, a father who'd cried over the graves of his wife and son's, there's a family broken and unknown. But is there enough time to undo the damage pride and madness has created?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a 15 minutes story about Jackson finding out that he has a little Brother, and that little Brother is none other than the clever kid he's bullied, will Stiles Stilinski accept him as his Brother and will either one of them accept Peter Hale as their father?
> 
> Had to change a few lines to fit chapter two, sorry...

Jackson Matthew Whittemore was beyond pissed with his parents, his _adoptive_ parents, they had been lying to him for years and not about him being adopted because that detail Jackson had accidentally learned at the age of eleven; now what they had been lying to him about for several years was how and why he was placed for adoption, and what Greg and Sofia Whittemore had also failed to mention was that he Jackson Whittemore was a big brother.  

 

_I’m a big brother. I have a little brother._ Jackson thinks as he stares down at the documents the private investigator Jackson had hired had handed to him just hours ago. Amongst the papers that told the true origin of Jackson was also the earliest picture of himself that Jackson had ever seen, little Jackson had been two although Jackson was sure his younger-self would have insisted at the time that he was almost three when the picture was taken. Little Jackson was looking up at the camera with wide and fearful eyes, his hair messy, he was holding his little brother tightly like their lives depended on little Jackson keeping his brother close.

 

His little brother had been according to the documents just a month and two weeks and four days old when their family was ruined by fire; that was also the amount of time Jackson Hale had been a big brother to a baby boy who hadn’t yet at the time been given a name of his own.

 

Jackson doesn’t know, doesn’t remember how he had reacted when he was separated from his brother, he doesn’t know how he could forget about ever having a little brother, but he has a feeling that he didn’t give up his brother easily. Or maybe it’s not as much as a feeling as the twist in his gut when he looks at his younger-self and the way he hangs on to the baby like his young life depends on the child in his arms.

 

He takes another sip of the bottle of Vodka he had stolen from his adoptive mother, it’s almost empty and he hasn’t even managed to reach a pleasant buzz, the document that held the grim-tale of the family Jackson had lost and never truly known is almost mocking him now, for he has been running around with the two remaining members of the family Jackson had never truly known; for the past two years he has been around them without knowing what they were to him.

 

The investigator had done a splendid job he had continued digging not only into Jackson’s past but also searching for the little boy Jackson had been separated from only days after they had lost their family home, the man had tracked down the brother Jackson Whittemore had never known he wanted, the man with the scruffy-beard and beady eyes had all the information on Jackson’s brother in a separate folder to be opened if Jackson so wished.

 

Jackson’s real mother had been a very beautiful woman, even Jackson can admit that even if her eyes were brown and her skin was dotted with black moles, as he looks at her a found in a newspaper and next to his mother was his father a man Jackson knew all too well if anyone could ever really know Peter Hale.No one could really blame Jackson for the display of rage he showed when he realized he was related to the beast that had nearly killed the love of Jackson life.

 

After throwing the now empty bottle at the nearest tree and screaming his voice raw, he pushed aside the information on “his father” whom Jackson would happily blame all his faults on, and focused on the woman that had given him life.

 

Meredith was her name and according to the documents she had lived for two days after the fire that had slain the largest part of the Hale-family had died down leaving behind ruins and death and four orphaned kids; Laura Hale barely eighteen took off with her little brother leaving her two cousins to defend themselves against the world, or at least that is how Jackson would phrase it. Reading about how his mother had according to the nurses and the doctors that had treated her Meredith Hale had been asking for her babies, the word babies broke Jackson’s heart; she had been asking over and over again if they were safe. 

 

Jackson glares at the burned down ruins of the Hale house, and screamed his anger and pain until his throat hurt once more; Jackson was a Hale, Jackson father was a psychopath and a serial-killer bastard that couldn’t be trusted, his two cousins had abandoned him and his little brother and now one of them were dead; when there was no one there to keep Jackson and his little brother together they were separated on the day when their mother died.  

 

Finding out his Alpha was his cousin, that he was related to Derek Hale who didn’t care much for Jackson and Jackson had never liked Derek much either.

 

But maybe, maybe Jackson’s little brother could like him if not love him, the though sneaked into his brain and Jackson looked down  at the folder that was resting on the hood of his truck, he picked it up and unsealed it with shaking hands, ****and in the light of the headlights of the car that his adoptive father had bought him after Jackson had brought victory to the Beacon Hills Lacrosse team, Jackson began to read and when he was finished he was more or less sure his little brother would never love him the way Jackson had wished his brother would. The situation, the truth about his family and his little brother left Jackson feeling royally pissed-off. And that was why he got into his truck and speeded of towards the address which he was somewhat familiar with, he needed to see the man who had mastered the separation of him and his brother.

 

He drove through red-lights, speeding down streets like there were no rules for him to follow, he barely parked his car outside the house of Sheriff Stilinski and ran up to the front-door without much thought to what he would say or do once the door opened; he beats at the door with his fist, his anger growing because this man of the law had broken and bent it to his will with the help of Greg Whittemore.

 

The door opens by a very angry and a very intoxicated Sheriff Stilinski, the man can barely bark out the question, `WHAT?´ without slurring, Jackson doesn’t care for the man or his rights to privacy he simply pushes past the man looking around the foyer while shouting for his little brother, `STILES!´

 

`Get out of my house Whittemore.´ the sheriff barks, grabbing Jackson by the elbow, but Jackson’s having none of it and yanks himself free from the man, `Stiles!´  Jackson yells one more time, and the kid appears at the top of the stairs looking fearful and worried.

 

`GET BACK INTO YOUR ROOM! ´ The sheriff booms and Stiles makes a move to obey but Jackson is up the stairs and forcing his little brother to turn and face him; there is a nasty bruise forming on his little brother’s cheek, and there are old and ugly bruises littering the long slender arms that are usually hidden by long sleeves. Jackson can’t believe what he is seeing and before the Sheriff has even stumbled half-way up the stairs undoubtedly in an attempt to force Jackson out of the house and Stiles to his bedroom, Jackson is already dragging his little brother past the man and out of the house; he knows this is as good as abduction, but Jackson doesn’t care because his little brother needs him, Stiles needs his big brother, and Jackson will protect him.

 

Stiles does struggle against him, but Jackson isn’t all human and so forcing Stiles into the car isn’t too difficult the moment Jackson is in the truck he speeds away from the Stilinski house, and he keeps repeating the words, `I’ll protect you. I’ll take care of you, I promise, I fucking promise you that.´

 

`Jackson? ´ Stiles whispers when Jackson parks the truck outside the building where their cousin has set-up house, Jackson grabs both folders and tries to smile at his little brother who looks as terrified as he had done on his first day at school; Stiles was super smart like Lydia, and that was why he was at High School two years before he was supposed to, and that was why he had been picked on by everyone but Scott McCall who took the boy under his wing. Even Jackson had picked on the little boy who stumbled around and couldn’t stop talking.

 

_God, my brother is closer to McCall than what he’s with me,_ Jackson thought bitterly before getting out of the car, of course Jackson couldn’t place all the blame on McCall because Jackson hadn’t treated Stiles kindly; hell he had treated Stiles like a freak, a weirdo and if it wasn’t for McCall turning into a werewolf well then Jackson might have even hurt the boy badly.

 

`Let’s go Stiles.´ Jackson says as he opens the door and guides with a firm hand his little brother out of the vehicle and towards the building that would shelter Stiles long enough for Jackson to figure out what to do, ****they entered the building without anyone halting them because there were only two people living there and one of them was family, he guides Stiles into the lift that rattled loudly as it climbed the levels to the loft where their cousin lived.

 

Wrapping one arm over the bony shoulders of his younger brother Jackson pulled him closer, the noise of the lift was rubbing his wolf the wrong way and he needed to find some comfort because his nerves were worked-up by everything he had learned that night,  pressing his nose into the buzz-cut that was Stiles hair and for the first time he really took in the scent of the other male; and the stench of fear hurt as badly as the smell of healing skin, but as Jackson took in the scent of the boy that was his true family he remembered doing something rather similar years and years ago.

 

_Jackson isn’t happy, he doesn’t like not being allowed near his mama, he doesn’t like being away from her or the baby that is still in her tummy; daddy had told him when he had asked why mama had eaten his baby brother, that the baby had to be in his mama’s belly so it was safe and could grow big and strong enough to survive the world, of course Jackson hadn’t like that idea because he was the big brother and it was his job to protect his baby brother._

 

_Mama had been hurting all morning and so his uncle Daniel took him and a few of his cousin out of the house and to the playground, but Jackson wants to be home and he makes it clear by being difficult; but then daddy is suddenly there all smiles and happy, Jackson ran towards his daddy and who picked him up and told him that he was a big brother now, his baby brother had been born._

 

_Thirty-minutes later and Jackson walks into his daddy and mama’s bedroom, mama’s asleep, she’s human and heals slowly not like daddy. His daddy helps Jackson sit down in the new chair in the room and places a wrinkly little baby in Jackson arms, and Jackson is in awe because his little brother because he is so small and yet he lives; he’s not as weak as Jackson big brother Edward was, he died  before he was even born. Jackson breathes in the scent of his younger brother, tries to memories the scent so that he can always find him, because that’s what everyone does._

 

`Jackson? ´ Stiles says voice small and fearful, he hasn’t moved away from Jackson even if he does smell like he’s afraid of Jackson, `Why are you doing this? ´  Jackson stops breathing in the fine scent of his brother, his mind tells him it shouldn’t take too long for the disgusting smell of Sheriff Stilinski to leave his brother, all Jackson needs to do is keep the abusive bastard away from his brother.

 

`I want to go home Jackson.  I should go home Jackson.´ Stiles says the fear and anxiousness in his little brother’s voice does nothing to sooth the turmoil that rages inside of the werewolf.  

 

`Trust me.´ is all Jackson says at the lift hitches to a stop, then he gently guiding his little brother out of the small space, they make their way into the Alpha’s housing, it’s a miserable place but Jackson needs to have Stiles somewhere where Stilinski can’t hurt him further.

 

`DEREK!´ Jackson shouts voice barely hiding the anger he feels, because Derek is their Alpha and their cousin, it’s Derek’s job to take care of them and protect them and he has done neither when it came to Stiles.

 

`Jackson.´ Derek grows as he comes down the spiral staircase, looking irritated which is a usual look on their cousin when it comes to Jackson and Stiles, and everyone else, `Stiles.´

 

Isaac appears from the so-called kitchen area with a bowl of cereal, the look of disgust Isaac shoots at Jackson has the werewolf growling and pushing his little brother behind him because Jackson does not trust the beta, hell he doesn’t trust any of Derek’s betas with Stiles not after Erica knocked Stiles unconscious.

 

Jackson knows his cousin does not like him, he knows the only reason why Derek gave him the bite was because he needed a pack; Jackson knows Derek doesn’t even think of Stiles as pack and he knows that the only reason Derek keeps Stiles around is because where Stiles is there’s McCall and Derek want’s McCall.

 

`You need to keep Stiles here, at least until I figure-out what to do about Stilinski.´ Jackson says voice tight and growling because he really doesn’t trust Isaac Lahey, because there is something about the way Isaac looks at his baby brother that just rubs Jackson the wrong way.

 

`Why should I do anything for him?´ Derek asks while reaching the end of the stairs, and the question has Jackson dragging Stiles in front of Derek who’s eyes widen when he sees the amount of bruises littering Stiles body, bruises which have Isaac suddenly there right next to Jackson and Stiles.

 

`Who did this?´ Isaac asks, eyes running over the bruised arms and the bruises that have started to appear on the long slender neck, and the one flourishing on Stiles cheek, `Derek, some of these bruises are old, and some, fresh.´

 

`Did you do this?´ Derek snaps at Jackson who loses control of his wolf for a second and bares his fangs at his Alpha as he snarls, `No. The Sheriff DID.´

 

`He’s lying. My dad hasn’t done anything.´ Stiles says far too quickly, far too loudly, and even without either one the tell-tale sound of a skip in the heart tells everyone in the room that the youngest member in the room wasn’t telling the truth.

 

`Stiles.´ Isaac breathes out broken and sad.

 

`How long?´ Derek asks as he inches closer, eyes moving over each mark.

 

Stiles clams-up, shuts down, Jackson can tell by the way the body tenses-up; stupid, loyal Stiles will hold his tongue, will protect the man he falsely loves and believes to be his father and only relation.  

 

`Does it matter? ´ Jackson asks, the beast in him relaxing slightly at the sight of protectiveness it senses from its Alpha.

 

`It doesn’t. ´ Derek agrees.

 

`I want to go home.´ Stiles says like a little boy who is about to throw a tantrum, he doesn’t look up at anyone of them, just glares down at the floor beneath his feet like it is the reason for his presence there, `This is kidnapping. Abduction.´

 

`This is protection.´ Jackson snaps, and grabs Stiles by the shoulders the folders he had been carrying fall to floor ungracefully, when Stiles doesn’t look up at Jackson he forces Stiles by slipping the palm of his hand underneath the trembling chin, and lifting the lowered head up until Stiles meets his eyes, `I need to protect you Stiles.´

 

`Why do you suddenly care Jackass? ´ Stiles asks eyes cold with anger.

 

`Because we’re brother’s Stiles.´ Jackson answers truthfully, the reaction Stiles has is a surprise to him; the human boy that shares Jackson’s blood starts to laugh it’s a bitter sound that is ugly and cruel.

 

`You’re giving me that shit, it didn’t work with Scott when Derek tried it, and it won’t work with me.´ Stiles doesn’t sound anything like the kid Jackson had spent months picking on, and it startles Jackson a little to find Stiles capable of being so cold and bitter towards anyone; he was usually all-smiles and loud laughter, sarcasm and childish jokes, never cold.

 

`You and me _are_ brother’s Stiles.´ Jackson says, placing so much into the word are, because he simply can’t do much else, `And we are not like Derek and his betas, or like you and Scott, you and me are actual brothers By blood,´ Jackson needs Stiles to believe him to trust him, ` we share the same mother and father. And I held you in my arms when you were just an hour old.´ Jackson sees the moment Stiles is about to argue and so he turns towards the werewolves in the room and says, `Tell him, did I lie?´

 

 


	2. Cousin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Alpha it was Derek Hale’s duty to care for the members in his pack, he’d bought an apartment where he could live with his beta Isaac, he’d bought a car for Boyd so the young man could move around easily without having to use the buss, but at the sight of the bruises on the kid who had the odd name told the Alpha he’d failed the most innocent and fragile member of his pack. And that did not sit well with Derek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking forever before posting something. 
> 
> Let me know if you want me to continue with this story or not and if you want to know something about what I’m planning to do with this story then just ask.
> 
> THANK YOU FOR ALL THE KUDOS’ left after the first chapter, and all the lovely comments! I do appreciate them even if I did disappear for a while.

 

Seeing the bruises the boy must have been hiding for only God knows how long did not sit well with the Alpha.Derek might treat Stiles as someone unwanted and push him around like he was nothing, but the truth was he wished nothing more than to keep the human safe, and those markings of abuse and cruelty told Derek had failed. Seeing the bruises that could not be much older than a day or so, and seeing fresh ones rising to the surface to speak of the harm that must have happened not too long ago, it made him feel sick and angry because the pale boy did not deserve to be treated like a punching bag by anyone let alone his own father.

 

`Who did this? ´ Isaac asked voice full of distress, he turns to look at his Alpha eyes wide causing the young Beta to look so much like the vulnerable kid Derek had offered the bite too, the boy that had been abused by his only parent, `Derek, some of these bruises are fresh.´ the teenager that had been abused and tormented by his father was looking at him once again, pleading him to do _something_ to _help_ in some way. Derek hated that look because he’d had tried to give Isaac a safe and secure home, and yet just the sight of a bruised and battered Stiles was enough to bring back a look of anxiousness in his beta.

 

`Did you do this? ´ Derek snaps at Jackson in an attempt to do something, and in all honesty he could see Jackson as the one hurting Stiles because the Jackson had never attempted to hide his dislike of the human boy. 

 

`No! ´ the force of the answer startles Derek, but what stunned the Alpha into stillness and silence was the following words, `The Sheriff DID.´ 

 

Although Derek and the Sheriff had their less than pleasant run-ins the werewolf had never imagined the man of law, the man who had worried over Isaac when suspicions of Mr. Lahey’s abusive nature towards Isaac had risen and the Sheriff continued show concern for Isaac’s wellbeing; nothing about the Sheriff had ever suggested that he would harm his own son, but then again one thing Derek had learned in life was you could never truly know a person.

 

If it hadn’t been for Jackson’s steady heartbeat, be it a bit faster than usual due to his less than calm state, then Alpha Hale would have called the werewolf a liar and insisted that the Sheriff loved his son. But Jackson was telling the truth and that caused a coldness spread through Derek’s body because he continued to be wrong about people, even as an Alpha he failed to see the bad people from the good. 

 

`He’s lying.´ Stiles throws in far too quickly and far too desperately to convince anyone that Jackson is telling nasty little tales to get the Sheriff of Beacon Hills in trouble. The answer is far too loud as well and it tells the Alpha and everyone else that the liar in the loft wasn’t Jackson Whittemore but Stiles Stilinski. 

 

There’s a want, a burning desire to chase down the Sheriff because although Stiles was annoying as hell and unable to shut-up even under the pain of death, there was still not a single reason Derek would accept to justify the abuse. 

 

`How long? ´ Derek asked while moving towards the boy who was nothing more than a child, a child that had managed to hold Derek’s heavy body above water for nearly two hours during Jackson stint at being a scaly monster that was being controlled by a lunatic, a boy who had found a way to save said scaly creature while all Peter and Derek could think of was to end Jackson Whittemore’s life. Derek can’t help the way his eyes roam over the bruised skin, burning in each of the unpleasant marks into his mind so he could never forget seeing them; never forget how he had yet again failed to keep the boy safe, it angers him and his wolf to see the evidence of their lack in judgment and capability. This would never have happened if his mother had still been alive. 

 

This would never have been allowed to happen if Laura had still been the Alpha. 

 

`Does it matter?´ Jackson asks voice still full of anger but Derek could tell that it wasn’t entirely directed towards him, Derek nods and agrees with his reluctant Beta because it really didn’t matter.

 

All that mattered was making the abuse stop. All that mattered was keeping Stiles safe.

 

`I want to go home.´ there was a threat of a tantrum there, Derek could hear it and recognize it from years of growing-up amongst his siblings and cousins; this wasn’t typical Stiles Stilinski behavior and it just reminded him of how young the boy was in reality, Stiles was a child running around with teenagers that were werewolves no less. Stiles shouldn’t have been dragged into this horror show.

 

`This is kidnapping.´ Stiles says without looking at Jackson or Derek or Isaac who was whining anxiously where he was passing back and forth, this situation was bringing back a lot of memories Isaac had been trying to suppress or perhaps ignore and Derek felt bad for the young Beta; it took months before Isaac stopped having nightmares, nightmares that had him waking-up screaming and curling against Derek who’d always rush into Isaac’s room when the screaming and crying started. The nightlight was however still on, because even with the gifted sight of a werewolf Isaac still didn’t handle darkness well. 

 

`This is protection.´ Jackson snaps his eyes flashing that dreadful blue Derek had once suffered from but which had now been replaced with the Alpha-red, the color that helped him to hide his guilt and shame. The folders Jackson had been carrying dropped to the floor as the werewolf reaches out to plant the palm of his well-manicured hand under the slightly trembling chin of a rather upset Stiles Stilinski. Derek watches the interaction curiously because he has never seen Jackson gentle with anyone, anyone except for Lydia, and he can’t but worry about what Jackson was up too and where or not this was some devious game Jackson was playing. 

 

Jackson lifts the Stiles head from its lower position, until their eyes are locked and Derek watches the interaction between the two.

 

`I need to protect you Stiles.´The desperation in Jackson voice, the need within the usually cocky and self-absorbed jock was enough to cause both Derek and Isaac exchange glances of, “what the hell is going on here?” and the fact that Jackson still wasn’t lying made the whole situation strange and unusual. 

 

Stiles eyes were cold with anger as he glared up at Jackson while he asked with a voice full of pent-up anger, `Why do you suddenly care Jackass? ´

 

_ Why does he care?  _ Derek wonders as he looks at Jackson and Stiles, and he can tell a light struggle going on within Jackson before the young man answers, `Because we’re brother’s Stiles.´ Derek feels both his eyebrows leap up because this news was unexpected and new. 

 

The bitter laughter that escaped the young human was ugly and cruel to hear, it was unfamiliar and frightening. And Derek wasn’t even sure if the child standing there all bruised with dark circles under his beautiful brown eyes which had always reminded Derek of his favorite auntie.

 

`You’re giving me that shit,´ Stiles sounds noting like the boy who had stepped right into Derek’s life all defiant and brilliant, good and loyal. There was only bitterness and anger which made the Alpha feel like he’d walked straight into a freezer, like someone had suddenly sucked out all the air in the room.

 

`It didn’t work with Scott when Derek tried it, and it won’t work with me.´ Derek couldn’t help the want to snap at Stiles for that particular comment, he had yet to give-up hope that Scott would accept his place in Derek’s pack; it was one of the reasons why Derek continued to keep an eye on both Scott and Stiles, and yet he hadn’t seen the cruelty that had gone on behind the doors of the Stilinski house. 

 

Perhaps he had focused too much on Scott and far too little on his human friend.

 

`You and me _are_ brother’s Stiles.´ Jackson says voice firm and unwavering, and there isn’t even the slightest hint of deceit, `And we are _not_ like Derek and his betas, or like you and Scott,´ there was just something rather amusing about the hatred that oozed out of Jackson at the mention of Scott McCall that brought a slight lift to Derek’s lips, he knew it was mostly because he was still just a little bit disappointed in the choices Scott had and was making, **`** You and me are actual brothers, by blood,´ Derek can feel his jaw drop and eyes widen and he realizes Isaac is mimicking his surprised expression, and both of them struggle to find the deception in those words of Jackson, `We share the same mother and father,´ Derek can’t find a lie anywhere in Jackson’s words and can tell that neither has Isaac.

 

Derek turns his gaze towards Stiles, who looks startled, but the anger stays and it keeps growing and why wouldn’t it with such a ridiculous statement?

 

`And I held _you_ in _my_ arms when you were just an hour old.´ Derek can tell as much as Jackson does that Stiles is about to call the Beta a liar, but Jackson is faster than the human boy who has started to tremble where he’s standing. Jackson snaps his gaze away from the Stiles who sways now ever so slightly and Derek feels a bit concerned that Stiles was about to faint, with a voice demanding and strong Jackson demands and answer from his Alpha to the question that falls from his lips, `Tell him, did I lie?´ 

 

Derek glances over at the very angry boy who looks like he is about to burst into unwanted tears, a boy who really doesn’t look like he’d be any better of knowing that Jackson wasn’t telling cruel little stories to mess with everyone’s heads, but then again sending Stiles back to what was undoubtedly an unhealthy life was more an incentive to the answer Derek Hale gave.

 

`I can’t hear a lie Stiles.´ 

 

Jackson gives Derek a weak smile, that’s the only thank you Jackson will probably ever give Derek, then the blue eyed teen turns his gaze back to the boy who was shaking his head, who looked so exhausted and worn that Derek felt the need to move to his side just to make sure that someone was there to catch the kid if the world suddenly darkened around him. It was Derek’s job to take care of Stiles, because even if Stiles wasn’t a werewolf he was pack, Stiles was pack even if Stiles didn’t believe it.

 

`No. No you are all liars.´ Stiles insists, angry little tears escaping now, voice trembling and half-gasping.

 

`I’ve got the proof, Stiles, I have the proof.´ Jackson says before he hurries to gather up the documents he’d dropped, picking up a few of them and shows them to the boy who is shaking all over his body, who looks almost sickly pale and Derek can hear the strange beat of the heart that had always been just a little bit too fast for Derek liking.

 

`Here’s the adoption paper for both of us, ´ Derek takes a look at the piece of paper raised from the ground for Stiles to see and his heart nearly stops at the name of birthparents because they are names so very familiar to him, and he snatches the document from Jackson’s hands and just stares down at all the names on the piece of paper all of them familiar to him in one way or another, and now its Derek who feels like he might just faint. 

 

Seeing Peter, his Uncles name on that piece of paper which also contained the name of Derek’s favorite aunt, and then to see familiar names of two of his cousins which he had thought had perished in the flames with their family; or at least that’s what Derek had thought when Laura never mentioned Jack or baby Dylan. 

 

There are papers that show him how Jack Alexander Hale had become Jackson Alexander Whittemore; there are documents that show him how his youngest cousin Dylan Arthur Hale became Genim Dylan Stilinski. There are papers in Derek’s hands that tell him that Jackson and Stiles are his cousins, there are words and names that tell him Stiles and Jackson are Peter’s kids. 

 

Derek is shocked, barely able to comprehend what this all means for him, for Peter. He has to wonder if Peter has known about these two boys all along, if he’s been playing some game Derek hasn’t been aware of; yes, he’d noticed that Peter seemed a bit too interested in Stiles, but maybe it wasn’t too interested if Peter knew who Stiles was. But then again, did Peter know? And if Peter didn’t know, then how didn’t Peter recognize his own children? 

 

Derek’s head began to spin with questions, thoughts, while Stiles fell completely silent as he two gazed upon the information Jackson had brought forth. 

 

`No. No.´ Stiles says voice trembling, head shaking as he rips one of the papers that was thankfully just a copy of the adoption papers, `No. This is not real. This is not real.´Stiles throws the pieces at Jackson who is just a bit startled by Stiles reaction, and like Derek he flinches when Stiles starts to yell, `I HATE YOU!´ in Jackson’s face who simply nods, accepts his brother’s anger.

 

`You can hate me as much as you want, ´ Jackson says as Stiles repeats his furious words, it’s rather a surprise to both Isaac and Derek to see Jackson just stand there calm and collect while Stiles shouts at him, and to hear the older teen tell Stiles he didn’t care if Stiles hated him because Jackson was still going to make sure Stiles stayed safe.

 

`I hate you.´ Stiles continues to say but the anger was now replaced with an air of defeat and exhaustion, `I want to go home. Please let me go home.´ and with that Stiles breaks down crying. 

 

The sound of the loft door open and close has everyone but Stiles looking up at the sudden intruder, who just saunters worth with false look of disapproval on his smug face while clever eyes shine with amusement, `Great, you’ve gone from biting teenagers to making little boys cry. Well done Derek. Well done.´ Peter Hale ends his statement with slow applauds. 

 

****

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don’t start hating on Stiles; he’s hurt and confused, and a little scared. He’s just a little boy who’s been hurt by the one person he’d expected to love and protect him and now he learns that person might just not be his daddy after all. And then there Jackass-Jackson who’s been mean to him telling him now they are brothers. So no hating on Stiles or you might as well grab your stuff and walk out the door.


	3. 6 Feet Under

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter hadn’t always been unstable, there had once been a time when he’d been a loving husband and a loving father, but not everyone knew that he’d once been capable of pure love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Reader/readers I AM so very nervous about this chapter I just couldn’t make it work for some reason, I wanted to show smidges of old Peter, I wanted to show a little of the sadness he felt and the regrets but I just couldn’t do it, and this is like the third of five versions and it’s the best one… and it still isn’t good, sorry. Oh, and I wanted you all to get a little taste of Meredith Hale as well, just a little one.

 

_ He touches her stomach gently, not wanting to disturb his mates sleep, trailing fingers across the flat skin there. He can’t help but imagine what it would feel like when there was something there underneath the skin that still held the stretch marks of their previous pregnancy which had been a success. One day Peter would be able to feel another baby in there and hear the little beat of a young heart, he would one day feel little feet kicking up against the palms of his hand and the thought alone made him smile. One day he would once more see Meredith’s body stretching to accommodate their little one. Then again, maybe she was already with their child, maybe last night’s activities had already given them what they’ve wanted. Maybe their son or daughter was already being prepared to grow into another child for them to love, a child for Jackie to watch over.  _

 

_ Peter couldn’t stop himself from moving down the body of his beautiful mate, and kiss the soft stomach wishing there was a life forming beneath all that flesh.  _

 

_ Peter hopes that the child takes after his beautiful mate, because Jackie had taken more after him than her. Peter wouldn’t mind another son, a boy for Jackie to play and maybe he wants another boy because having a daughter terrifies Peter; a girl would mean boyfriends and Peter wasn’t sure he could handle it well if his daughter’s heart ever got broken by some silly boy, God he might even kill the boy or girl if his little princess was inclined to lean towards that direction.  _

 

_ But in all honesty it didn’t matter if the child was a boy or a girl, not really, as long as the baby was born healthy and strong, werewolf or human didn’t matter the slightest, as long as there was one day another child for him to love and care for.Meredith and he had talked about how many children they wanted long before Meredith had agreed to become his mate so he knew she might not be entirely against carrying another child for their family, they might have different experiences of family but both of their desire for their children to have the comfort of siblings was the same, and so they had long ago settled with at least having three children and no more than six. _

 

_ `You know I can hear you right? ´ his mate groaned before opening one eye, one beautiful whiskey colored eye that in the setting sun could glow bright yellow as if she was one of his kind, Peter couldn’t help but smirk because she really couldn’t hear his thoughts but he liked to indulge her fancy at every turn and often than not she did know what he was thinking but that was simply because she was incredibly clever and able to read people. _

 

_ `You really want another one, don’t you? ´ she shouldn’t need to ask such a thing, but he gave a nod even though he shouldn’t need to answer such a silly question, two amber orbs watching him with a mischievous glint that was familiar and beloved by the werewolf, `Then get on with it, knock me up.´ When he hesitated, because really was she really saying what he thought she was saying, `Let’s have another boy.´  _

 

_ `What makes you so sure it’s going to be a boy?´ Peter asked eyes flashing yellow at the thought of having his wishes come true, that she would agree to lend her body for their child so easily.  _

 

_ `Because I know everything, never forget that my wolf.´ his mate said while spreading her long slender legs for him.  _

 

Peter startled awake, the book he’d been reading before slipping into a bittersweet dream dropping to the floor creating a loud bang of a noise. The dream wasn’t just a dream it was also a slice of memories of a Peter Hale that would never have killed his own niece, these dreams were the cruelest part of still being alive for they kept reminding him of what he had lost.

 

Peter’s heart clenched painfully in his chest and tears he always imagined had ran dry fell from his eyes that no longer glowed glorious yellow but instead shamefully blue. After dreams like these that were vivid memories of a life where Peter had loved a woman with a laughter that had been incredibly loud and some might have said obnoxious but he’d loved it for it had been pure and unapologetic at all times, Peter couldn’t halt the tears that were born from remembering a life he could no longer live, a life he’d lost in such a horrible way deserved the tears which he could offer.

 

Peter couldn’t stand staying inside his apartment and so he hurried out of the dull apartment that felt empty and cold after dreams that slipped him back to a time when the fridge door would have been covered with little Jackie’s drawings and where the floor and couch would have held toys.

 

He drove around for an hour before pulling up at the Beacon Hills cemetery, he hadn’t planned on it but being there outside the gates and not visiting his family didn’t sit well with Peter or his wolf and so he slipped out of his car and walked to the trunk, opening the trunk Peter Hale took a lungful of air trying to calm his nerves; his wolf wanted to howl its grief but it would reveal too much about him. In the trunk amongst the usual crap was the small basket that held things he’d picked-up here and there. Removing the basket from the trunk, he’d always got something for his family when he went out and about; he’d always done it even when he’d had his family alive and flourishing, he’d always made sure he came home with a little gift for Jackie such as a car or a bag of sweets, flowers or a silly card or chocolaty treats for his mate, and the short time he had with his second-born son he’d bought his little boy soft toys and warm clothes. With basket in hand Peter walked through the gates of the cemetery that continued to grow with new inhabitants. 

 

The first thing Peter had done even when a crazed Alpha hungry for vengeance was replacing the sad excuse for gravestones raised on the graves of his mate and children with the ones that fitted those he’d loved the best, he’d replaced the bland grey stones and with only their names and dates of birth and death on them, he replaced those dull creations with headstones and words _he’d_ chosen. Meredith’s grave was next to the one where both their son’s had been lain down in. 

 

** _Born to love and be loved_ ** had been engraved into the pale headstone that had been decorated with sunflowers, the words were the one Meredith had said more than once to him and their children, for someone born to people incapable of love Meredith had oozed it. She’d been able to love him with all his faults which had amazed him and his family, and it was her love that had made him less selfish and more selfless. **_Born to Love and Be Loved_ ** had also been the words engraved into the wedding-band that had been lost after he’d been dumped into a room where he spent years trapped inside his own mind,someone had stolen the ring his mate had slipped on his finger on a beautiful September evening in front of friends and family, some unholy soul had stolen the last piece he had of his mate and if he ever found this person he might gut them and string them up in the center of town. He had made a promise to never remove the ring, and he’d broken it unwillingly and he could only hope Meredith still had the rings he’d slipped on her long slender finger each simple and each holding words of great importance. 

 

It pained him to know he’d broken the promise to never remove the ring she’d slipped on his ring finger in front of their friends and Peter’s family, but then again he’d broken more than one promise to Meredith on the night his family was burned to the ground. The first lie happened before the flames began to lick the walls, it came when they were all being ushered down into the basement. 

 

_ Meredith reeked of fear and she held their sleeping infant son close, so very close to her body as if trying to slip him right back inside her in hopes of keeping him locked away safe and sound, they’d already seen one of the hunters hit little Lucy because she’d dared to ask the hunter why he was being such a bad man, her nose was broken and without the proper care her nose wouldn’t heal correctly as she was born a human and not a wolf.Jackie was whimpering against Peter’s neck, tiny claws prickling his skin but his brave little boy was holding-up rather well mostly because Peter had told him he had to be brave for his mama and baby brother who were both human and scared.  _

 

_ `I promise you, we’ll get out of this alive.´ Peter whispered into his mates ear as they settled down in the basement, and those words settled her and Jackie, their trust in him was unwavering and unflinching. She reached out for his hand and squeezed it tightly and smiled up at Peter and said, `I trust you.´ and her heart did not skip a beat.  _

 

Peter knows he’d tried he’d _really_ tried to get his family out of the hell the hunters had created. He knows he’d tried to save his mate and children. He’d tried to get Meredith and their little kids out of the burning building alive but it seemed everything had been against him that night. Peter touches the name of the only woman he had ever truly loved, he’d slept around before Meredith but the moment he’d seen her and what had drawn his attention to the barista of the small café was her laughter; and after that there was only Meredith and after Meredith came Jackie and then Baby Boy Hale, with Meredith he’d found love like the one his siblings had been blessed with. 

 

_ The smoke was toxic and thick, the heath was horrid and unforgiving, and Peter was close to panicking much like the others were but he focused his energy on battling the door that sealed them all into what was now as good as a crematorium, instead of giving in to the panic clawing at his insides he put all his energy and strength into saving his family.  _

 

_ Jackie was sobbing arms wrapped around his mother’s leg while she held the baby that was now wailing loudly, unlike Peter’s sister-in-law Gretchen his mate hadn’t begged and pleaded for the hunters to take her human children with them; a lot of good it had done Gretchen, the men and the Argent bitch and laughed at her and called her a wolfs-whore and her children abominations.  _

 

_ Meredith tried to calm both of their children as best she could while struggling to breathe. When he got the thick metal door to bend as much as he thought it needed to fit his mate and children through the gap, he took both kids from his mate and told her to get out first and then one by one Peter passed their son’s through the opening to his mate who was coughing over and over again.  _

 

_ `Go.´ Peter told his mate, ready to hurry back to the rest of his family to help them find the way out. But Meredith shook her head, tears creating tracks on her soot covered skin.  _

 

_ `No. Not without you.´ and she meant it, and for once he’d wished his mate had been a liar but no; she would not leave him much like she had promised him on their wedding day. And he knew he had a choice to make.  _

 

Peter kneeled down on the damp ground and lit the candles he’d brought for his mate, Meredith had always loved candles, she’d light them every chance she got, they had spent many evenings before and after the birth of Jackie cuddled up on the couch in candle light just soaking in each other’s company, he missed those silent moments spent with her. 

 

`I’m sorry.´ Peter whispered as he lit a candle, `I’m sorry for not visiting earlier,´ Peter spoke softly, placing the lit candle on the ground that held what little was left of his mate, if Peter was fortunate he would one day be placed down in the ground with her. Peter did try to visit the graves of his wife and sons at least once a week considering he’d been unable to do so while trapped inside his broken body for several years, but with the Kanima and Gerald and everything else that had gone array it wasn’t easy; and perhaps there was a part of him that feared that if he visited too often another hunter like Kate would come and defile the graves of his loved ones, finding the less than impressive headstones cracked and broken, smelling the urine and finding dog shit on the graves of his two children had driven him further into madness. Peter still regretted giving Kate such a quick and painless death as he’d done, she should have suffered more.

 

`I’ll try and do better Mer, I promise,´ he did, he would do better and he would bring fresh flowers next time, ` I’ll bring you sunflowers next time.´ The first thing his mate had done when they had moved into their little house with the tiny garden was to plant sunflowers in the small patch of a garden they had in their possession, and while other’s would buy their wives or significant others red roses the most happiest of reactions he got from his mate was when he brought her sunflower’s. 

 

He sat for a minute, allowing himself to weep silently and remember days when Meredith had been in his life all vibrant, loud, obnoxious and sarcastic. He moved on to his children when his memories moved on to them, he place a kiss on the gravestone of his mate, `I love you.´ whispered against the cold surface before he moved on.

 

The grief was different when it came to his children it was a strange sorrow that ran deep, it made him speechless and made the werewolf sob openly while placing the tiny sports car next to all the other cars he’d bought for his son who’d loved cars and ice-cream as long as it wasn’t plain vanilla. If Peter had been able to save his son then Jackie would have been driving around in his own car by now, and he’d probably be dating some cute girl or boy.

 

When it came to his youngest son Peter had no idea what the boy would be like now if he had survived the fire, he couldn’t even imagine his youngest son as anything than the little infant he’d supported in his muscular arms while feeding him his bottle or singing him to sleep, and then at times he’d get these ideas in his head where his son would resemble the Stilinski boy perhaps because Peter couldn’t help but admire the intelligence of the human boy with the whiskey colored eyes that for some reason reminded him of Meredith, and it was the eyes that had stopped him from forcing the bite on the boy when he’d been the blood thirsty Alpha; but the Sheriff’s son wasn’t his and there was no telling what sort of a boy his littlest one would have turned out as, and if he’d share Jackie’s love for ice-cream and cars. But bringing nothing for his youngest son didn’t feel right and so he placed the tiny floppy eared bunny fit for an infant next to all the other soft toys he’d bought the baby boy who’d died without a name and so underneath Jackie’s name and date of birth and death was just the words Baby Boy and Hale which was rather fitting as everyone had called the baby Baby Boy Hale although Jackie had called his little brother Baby or Little. 

 

Peter removed the toys that had suffered the most from the cruelty of weather, while he picked up the toys he allowed himself to cry without shame. He was almost glad he’d been trapped in the burns unite while his children were placed in the ground, because he couldn’t even endure the thought of their little bodies tucked in tiny coffins that were placed in the cold damp ground **.** The werewolf tried not to think about the size of the coffins, he tried to not think about the fact that two of his babies had died because of _him_. He tried to avoid thinking about how he’d failed Jackie who’d trusted his father to save his life, and _he’d_ failed his son, both of them. 

 

Peter stayed there crying over the grave of his little boys until drops of rain began to fall. Peter gathered his things and dried his tears before saying his goodbyes to his little ones. After visiting his dead family he had a need to see the living one just to settle the wolf that was howling loudly within his mind its grief and anger thick.

 

He drove towards his nephews dwellings, he knew his visit would not be appreciated but he didn’t care if Derek growled or snarled at him because he and his wolf needed family at the moment, he drove through the silent streets of Beacon Hills fighting back all the tears that threatened to escape even now in the speedy shelter.As he drove Peter recalled how when at the age of five months the only way to get Jackie to sleep was to drive around town, and the driving around thing didn’t stop until Jackie was seven months old. 

 

By the time he reaches the building his nephew and now Alpha had chosen for his and his orphaned Beta as a home, a choice that really didn’t agree with considering it did nothing to approve the image of either Derek or Isaac but Peter had lost his rights to judge Derek’s choices the moment he’d killed Laura, he’d come to think returning from the dead had truly been a mistake even if there had been a reason for the need to return. 

 

Peter was rather surprised to find one of the many vehicles young Whittemore drove around in parked outside the building that held within it his nephew, Peter couldn’t recall a time when Jackson willingly came to his Alpha so something was up and Peter was very invested in knowing what new disaster had hit Beacon Hills. 

 

Parking his car and slipping out while grabbing one of the water bottles Peter kept in the car for various reasons, he used the lukewarm water to wash his face with hoping it was enough to remove any trace of the tears he’d cried over the graves of his loved ones. Peter discarded the bottle by throwing it to the ground why care about the world when you had no one to leave it too? **** Peter scolded his expression and mind into something less grief stricken, these days he wore a mask which was well-formed and unrevealing of the weakened state of mind he still suffered from; there was no need for his enemies to see how weak he’d become after losing his family and the statues of Alpha.

 

With his face washed and his mind focused on everything but memories and the grief they caused him, Peter Hale made his way up to the loft, his steps are hurried for various of reasons one being his curiosity but also the need to be amongst family even if his nephew no longer treated him as such. 

 

Peter isn’t really surprised to hear loud and angry voice coming from within the miserable excuse of a home, he pulled the door open just in time to hear Stiles Stilinski asking to be allowed to go home, tears streaming down the pale face of a child who was far too young to be attending high school with kids several years older than him. Seeing the human boy crying didn’t sit well with the werewolf but he couldn’t express it without perhaps causing the boy more trouble than it was worth, and so he forced himself to pretend to find the situation amusing, `Great, you’ve gone form biting teenagers to making little boys cry.´ Peter may disapprove of the tears but he couldn’t risk his fondness for the boy to cause his nephew and his pack of teenagers to treat the bright child even worse, `Well done Derek. Well done.´ he began to applaud slowly, mocking his nephew who continued to fail as an Alpha. 

 

The moment Peter entered the bleak dwelling of his nephew the mood shifted from something chaotic and desperate to something loaded and unwelcomed, there was something about it all that made him feel like he had walked into something very private, and it all piqued his curiosity. Something was going on, and by the way both Derek and Jackson moved to stand between him and the only human in the room was a clear sign that it had something to do with young Stiles Stilinski. 

 


	4. Brother?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was going to be in so much trouble. He’d already been in trouble, but this was going to earn him the belt and it wasn’t going to be the usual one but the brown leather one that always managed to break his skin. Stiles knew he needed to get home, needed to get home before his dad got mad enough to beat him with the belt and lock him in the closet. He needed to get back home before his dad really got mad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here’s a bit about Stiles it was originally chapter three but I then decided that nope I’ll throw it out, but then I realized I might not remember to put a few of the tiny pieces of information on Stiles past into the future chapter’s, so that’s why I’m posting it now.

 

****

 

The B- was entirely his own fault and so Stiles deserved the bruises his dad gave him for the display of his stupidity and laziness, he deserved the punishment he knew he did. Sure maybe Harris’ hatred towards him had affected the result but it was _still_ Stiles’ fault he should have made the essay worth an A, he should have made it perfect because Stiles knew he wasn’t allowed to get anything under an A- he’d never been allowed to get anything less than an A- not even after his mother was hospitalized and not even after she’d died was he allowed to come home with a B in any shape or form. 

 

Stiles finished washing his teeth which wasn’t entirely painless because when his dad had struck him he’d managed to bite the inside of his cheek, Stiles hated the fact that he’d been enrolled into high school far too soon simply because his old teachers had all told his dad that he needed a more of a challenge when it came to his education, they had all thought Stiles’ dad would enroll him into one of those fancy private schools but instead of wasting money on him and school his dad enrolled him into Beacon Hills High School. ****

 

Stiles couldn’t stand high school not just because he couldn’t stop getting B’s but also because everyone but Scott and maybe Danny Mahealani were horrible towards him, there wasn’t a day he didn’t get shoved into a locker or have all of his belongings thrown to the floor.

 

The B’s were a sign that Stiles wasn’t able enough to handle the work load that came with being a High School student, but his dad refused to understand that Stiles just wasn’t ready or smart enough to survive high school, and when Stiles tried to explain just that to his father he got a couple of hits and soap in his mouth. 

 

Stiles hated high school, hated being proven how stupid he really was with each B he got, he hated disappointing his father over and over again as much as he hated lying to his dad because of Scott and the other werewolves. 

 

With his face and teeth washed Stiles made his way towards his bedroom although he wasn’t all that sure he could sleep with an empty stomach, he’d got a B and so he wasn’t allowed to eat that night but even if his stomach had been full the knowledge of the monsters that actually did lurk around in the shadows was enough to keep him awake at night; and when he slept he usually had dreams of fire and screams something that had started after watching Peter Hale burn.

 

Stiles made his way from the bathroom to his bedroom trying to make as little noise as possible, but the moment the sound of someone beating the front-door like it had personally offended the person who was disturbing his dads night had Stiles pausing his curious nature was what had him rooted to the floor. ****

 

From the loud cursing Stiles could tell his father was most definitely not pleased by this sudden disturbance which could be a bad thing for Stiles, and maybe that was the reason his stopped just so that he could figure out how much he was going to hurt tomorrow and if he was even going to be attending school tomorrow.

 

`WHAT? ´ his father barked at the fool who’d come to their house on the only night when his dad was off work which thankfully wasn’t all that often, and the next thing Stiles heard was his own name being called by someone who actually did sound a lot like Jackson Whittemore, and when his dad shouted all furious, `Get out of my house Whittemore.´ had Stiles sneaking closer to the stairs, curious to learn what was going on. 

 

`Stiles!´ the way Jackson yelled for him had Stiles moving to the top of the stairs to look down at Jackson who locked eyes with him at once and for the first time Jackson wasn’t looking at him like he was a piece of filth stuck to his expensive shoes. 

 

`GET BACK INTO YOUR ROOM!´ his dad roared and Stiles is quick to obey, because he’d already screwed up enough to earn himself the belt, but before he can scurry of and hide in his room Jackson is there forcing him to pause and face him and there was a strange intensity about the way Jackson was looking at him, and when Jackson gaze moved towards his arms Stiles was quick to try and roll down the sleeves of his shirt but from the low growl told him Jackson had seen the marks his dad had left. **** And the next thing Stiles knows is he’s being dragged down the stairs and out of the house and forced into one of Jackson cars, he could only be thankful that Jackson wasn’t shoving him into the trunk of his little sports car that was nothing more than a desperate act to show the amount of money Mr. and Mrs. Whittemore were prepared to put on their spoiled little prince. 

 

Stiles had never been as afraid and confused as he was after being forced out of his house and into a car, a car that was speeding through the streets of Beacon Hills, a car driven by Jackson “Jackass” Whittemore who hated him, and what made it even more terrifying was the way Jackson kept repeating the same words over and over again, `I’ll protect you. I’ll take care of you, I promise, I fucking promise you that **.´** the strange thing was, Jackson actually seemed serious about what he was promising which was a shocker in itself. 

 

Stiles didn’t know what to think when Jackson parked the truck outside the building where Derek and Isaac lived, and that did nothing to calm him down instead it just increased his anxiety and he was frankly rather surprised that he hadn’t yet been crippled by a panic attack but he was _absolutely_ fearful of what was to come. Jackson hated him, Derek didn’t like him, and Isaac disliked him as much as Jackson so nothing good could come from this little trip.

 

`Jackson?´ Stiles whispered trying to figure out how he could get his ass back home before his dad had a reason to punish him further, or at least get his ass home before Derek threw him home or Isaac kicked him all the way back home. 

 

Jackson pauses just for a second his full attention on Stiles which makes Stiles to expect something painful, there’s a hint of a smile or something like it and it increases Stiles’ fear level from an eight to an eight and a half. 

 

Nope, it was definitely a nine. 

 

Stiles turned his gaze away from Jackson and started to chew on his fingernail, he needed to get out of this situation as fast as possible. It didn’t take long before the car door opened and it caused Stiles to almost leap out of his skin.

 

`Let’s go Stiles.´ Stiles shakes his head, he’s sure he shook his head but Jackson was determined and so Stiles was out of the car one minute and heading towards the building which loomed tall and terrifying the next. Stiles can’t stop the shivers that start to rush through his body.

 

Stiles wants to run, escape, but he knows that even when Jackson was just a human he’d been faster than Stiles because of all the times Stiles had tried to run from Jackson and the older boy caught him were not forgotten was a prof of how useless Stiles was at escaping even humans, and now Jackass was a werewolf and you couldn’t outrun a werewolf without getting killed. He wanted to scream for help, there were three drag queens not too far from them probably waiting for a cab, but Stiles couldn’t make a sound because there was a fear thick and terrible inside him, strangling him. 

 

The fear level that had been on nine spiked right up to a firm nine and a half when he was shuffled into the lift that was loud and shaky, Stiles hated the lift and preferred the stairs but there was nothing he could do to stop Jackson. And the nine and a half nine level of fear spiked right up to ten when Jackson wrapped one of his arms over Stiles shoulder and pulled him closer, the fear spread through him as Jackson pressed his nose against his hair and smelled him. 

 

`Jackson? ´ Stiles hates the way his voice is so small and the way it trembles, he hates feeling so small and terrified, he wants to pull away from the same person who’d made fun of him from the first day he’d walked into Beacon Hills High School and who’d just hours ago pushed him to the floor so hard the Stiles had actually started to cry from the pain. Stiles was afraid of Jackson now more than he had ever been while being chased and threatened by the crazed Alpha that had been Peter Hale. 

 

`Why are you doing this?´ Stiles asks voice breaking just a little, he can hear the moment Jackson stops sniffing him but he doesn’t answer and so Stiles attempts to reason with the werewolf that his holding him painfully close. 

 

`I want to go home Jackson.´ Stiles fights to keep his tears away, he hates the way his body seems to want to cry whenever he’s afraid, `I should go home Jackson.´ He really should, because the longer he was away the more likely he was going to get the belt and then get locked in the closet, and Stiles hates the darkness more than the belt. 

 

`Trust me.´ the werewolf tells him as the lift stops abruptly and hard, shaking Stiles bones. Jackson uses his entire body to guide Stiles out of what Stiles considered a deathtrap. 

 

Stiles doesn’t trust Jackson because the werewolf had never done anything to earn his trust, then again his dad had told him never to trust anyone.

 

They enter the loft without as much as a knock which could not possibly be a good idea in Stiles’ opinion. 

 

`DEREK!´ Jackson shouts all loud and angry which causes Stiles heart to race, he feels trapped with Jackson’s arm still holding him in place, he feels terrified the moment a very unhappy Alpha comes strolling down the stairs, and the way Derek growls their names confirms what Stiles had already been certain about; they were not wanted. Stiles doesn’t even notice Isaac until Jackson shoves him behind his back like Jackson was trying to protect him from Isaac who was holding a bowl of cereal, and Stiles stomach growls desperately at the sight of a spoonful of what looked like lucky charms vanish into Isaac’s mouth; and Stiles didn’t even like Lucky Charms but Stiles hadn’t had a meal since yesterday at lunch because well he just hadn’t. 

 

`You need to keep Stiles here,´ the words shock Stiles right out of his hunger because he was not staying with just another set of people who hated him, `at least until I figure-out what to do about Stilinski.´ 

 

Stiles can’t understand why Jackson is doing this to him, sure the handsome teen hated him but something about the situation made Stiles feel this wasn’t done in hatred but by something else and not knowing what it was that was driving Jackson to behave the way he was broke the fear level to something unexplainable. 

 

`Why should I do anything for him?´ Derek sneered from where he was standing, and it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did because of course Stiles knew Derek didn’t like him no one but Scott did and Danny was nice to him just because he was a nice guy, and Allison had been nice to him while she was dating Scott because of Scott but now she couldn’t stand him, and yet Stiles had hoped that maybe just maybe Derek might like him just a little if only a smidge. 

 

Stiles couldn’t stop the squeak that escaped him when Jackson suddenly dragged him in front of the Alpha and rolling up one of the sleeves of his shirt, before turning Stiles bruised cheek towards the Alpha, and all Stiles just wanted was to die because not only was he neck deep in trouble with his dad but now he was being shown around so everyone could see what an failure he was. 

 

`Who did this?´ Isaac asked, standing suddenly right there and Stiles was starting to feel like he was a sheep surrounded by wolves, and the worrisome thing was the way Isaac made his voice sound like he actually cared about him, `Derek, some of these bruises are old, and some, fresh.´ 

 

`Did you do this? ´ Derek snaps suddenly at Jackson who is suddenly all fangs and sharp claws while he answers, `No. The Sheriff DID.´ Stiles knows what to say, knows what to do because it’s been ingrained in him for years, and so he says at once, `He’s lying. My dad hasn’t done anything.´ He knows to defend his father, he knows it, he’s done it before but he’d never had to lie to werewolves before about the bruises and things that happened behind closed doors. He knows by the scowl Derek wears and the way Isaac goes still that he’s been caught in a lie. 

 

`How long?´ Derek asks while he began to move closer and Stiles heart starts to beat like it’s trying to escape from his useless body. 

 

`Does it matter? ´ Jackson asks sounding just little bit less furious.

 

`It doesn’t. ´ the Alpha agrees, eyes burning at Stiles bruised cheek. 

 

`I want to go home.´ Stiles says growing more and more frustrated and angry, then he glares down at the floor, `This is kidnapping. Abduction.´

 

`This is protection.´ Jackson snaps, it’s alone enough to cause Stiles to nearly leap out of his skin, even with the gentle way Jackson touches him has Stiles waiting for a punch or a knee to his groin because this is Jackson and Jackson had never been nice to him not even when Danny has told him to stop being an asshole towards Stiles. **** The folders Jackson had been carrying like they were made of gold or something are dropped to the floor like pieces of trash or Stiles schoolwork, and what startled Stiles enough to jump was the surprisingly gentle way Jackson made him raise his gaze from the floor to the former Kanima, `I need to protect you Stiles.´

 

`Why do you suddenly care Jackass? ´ Stiles asked not even trying to hide the anger that had awakened by pure frustration and distrust.

 

`Because we’re brother’s Stiles.´ the answer is pure lunacy, and Stiles bursts out laughing, because there is no way in hell he’ll believe this nonsense and he isn’t at all afraid to tell Jackson how little he believes in Derek’s “we’re brother’s bullshit”. Jackson actually looks like Stiles’ had hurt him, but only for a second for it was soon replaced by something determined and unwavering. 

 

`You and I _are_ brother’s Stiles. And we are not like Derek and his betas, or like you and Scott, you and I are actual brothers by blood. We share the same mother and father. And I held you in my arms when you were just an hour old.´ Stiles refuses to believe in Jackson’s nonsense because Stiles was an only child, his mother’s special boy, and that Jackson dared to lie to him like this was unacceptable.

 

Jackson turns towards the Alpha and his beta and asks or rather demands for the two werewolves to confirm the lies. 

 

Stiles is exhausted, angry, frustrated and he just needed Jackson insane little joke to stop. 

 

`I can’t hear a lie Stiles.´ Derek says voice so sure, so firm, but Stiles will not accept his answer because he’d seen all the pictures of his pregnant mother and her holding him, feeding him, and Jackson wasn’t there.

 

The Alpha was moving closer and Stiles was feeling like a panic attack was pushing forth. 

 

`No. No you are all liars.´ Stiles insists because they had to be, his dad was his dad and his mother had been his mother and he did not have brothers or sisters, and he was done with all these lies and games. And the panic is whispering once more making it hard to keep breathing and standing, and there are tears now and he hates them as much as he hates Jackson and the others. 

 

`I’ve got the proof, Stiles, I have the proof.´ Jackson said before hurrying to gather up the documents and hands a few of them to Stiles who’s suddenly freezing where he’s standing. Stiles refuses so much as to touch the papers. 

 

`Here’s the adoption paper for both of us.´ although Derek seems willing to gaze on the obvious forgeries Stiles has no intention of accepting all the lies Jackson is trying to force feed him, and so Stiles begins to rip the papers Jackson tries to make him take seriously, `No. No. No . This is not real. This is not real.´ he throws the pieces at Jackson who is just a little bit startled by his reaction, even Derek flinches when Stiles screams at Jackson, `I HATE YOU!´ 

 

Stiles expects a punch, but what he gets is a short and simple nod which stills him. 

 

`You can hate me as much as you want, ´ Jackson tells him voice soft and strangely understanding. 

 

`I hate you.´ Stiles says but he’s too exhausted to put much venom behind the words, `I want to go home. Please let me go home.´ and with that he starts to openly cry, which is something he hasn’t honestly done since his mother’s funeral. 

 

He doesn’t hear Peter enter the loft not until the werewolf speaks, sounding far too bemused by Stiles distress, `great, you’ve gone from biting teenagers to making little boys cry. Well done Derek. Well done.´ the undead werewolf applause slowly. 

 

Stiles isn’t prepared with getting yanked behind both Jackson and Derek, he isn’t equipped with having to deal with this _protection_ and _brother_ nonsense and Creeper Hale as well.He’s exhausted with everything, and he’s so done with all of this. 

 


	5. Blame it on the Weatherman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blame it here, blame it there, take the blame hold it close or let it go, I do not know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if none of this makes sense I’m sorry, but I’m like sick and my brain has turned to mush.

 

`Get out!´ his nephew growled, `No one wants you here.´ And honestly that did sting just a little but Peter continued to play his part well and mocked the very feeling stinging inside his chest, and so in a mocking portray of hurt he said with hand over heart, `Oh how you wound me nephew.´

 

Peter wasn’t all too surprised by the immediate response that came from the Alpha who snarled, `Leave or I’m going to throw you out.´ The heartbeat of his nephew told Peter it wasn’t just an empty threat Derek would do just that throw Peter out like unwanted trash but for that to happen his nephew had to catch him first; and Peter had no intentions of not unearth what was going on with Stiles before leaving.

 

Peter continued to move towards the little group, movements slow and confidant, which earned him several more growls but that did nothing but spur the werewolf on. Knowledge was power after all, and power was something Peter desired.

 

`Fuck off Peter.´ Jackson snarled all sharp teeth and false bravado which was enough to convince Peter that the boy who’d been raised surrounded by fortune was terrified,and wasn’t that just a treat for him.

 

Jackson was watching him closely making Peter feel like the predator he truly was. 

 

`I’d rather not.´ Peter smirks while moving just a little bit more to his left so he could get a better look at the boy everyone was trying to hide from him, didn’t they know they were just fueling his hunger by trying to hide things from him? Derek really should have known better than try and keep things from him now, the last time Peter had kept his nose out of Derek’s affairs gave way for disaster.

 

When Peter sees the fingers shaped bruises that appeared cruel and visible on the back of the child’s neck, shockingly dark and detailed due to the paleness of the skin they tainted, his eyes widen for Peter had not expected to see such a thing. And when his eyes catch on the bruise that taints the cheek of the young boy who had no business being involved in the supernatural mess Peter had dragged him into, he feels something similar to sympathy but although Peter feels something that would make him less the homicidal monster the fire had created, he keeps his façade and so with a voice all neutral he asks, `Did young Stilinski get his ass-kicked by yet another geriatric? ´ 

 

`I want to go home.´ is all Stiles says in an unfamiliar subdued sort of way, whatever had transpired to bring forth this little gathering was serious enough to warrant Peter’s full attention. 

 

`NO.´ Jackson barks turning his attention away from Peter and over to the little kid that was trying to dry his tears with the sleeve of his oversized plaid shirt, even Peter was slightly started by the loudness and the finality of Jackson’s response, `YOU are staying here until I figure something out.´ Derek and Isaac both nod in agreement; Derek looks like he’d be prepared to tackle the human child if Stiles so much as made an attempt to escape the loft, and Isaac looked equally unwilling to allow the boy to depart which was rather interesting considering Lahey had never shown much interest in the boy.

 

_ Well now this is interesting,  _ Peter thought as he watched the strange little interaction between the younger wolves. 

 

`You are staying here even if it means I have to chain you to Isaac or Derek, ´ Jackson said eyes blazing while protests of growls erupted from both the Alpha and the tall beta, `You got that? You aren’t going anywhere.´ Stiles glared at Jackson and if looks could kill then Jackson would be lying dead on the floor, which wouldn’t be a great loss if you asked Peter. 

 

`You _are_ staying here.´ there’s such finality to the words that even convince Peter that Jackson Whittemore had no intentions of allow Stiles to leave the loft. 

 

`You don’t get to tell me what to do.´ Stiles said like some petulant child, but there’s an air of exhaustion that surrounds the boy with a mind so bright and curious, `My dad’s going to have you arrested and… ´ 

 

`Let him try.´ Jackson snaps before continuing on with a voice full of anger and frustration, `Let him try, but you are not going back to that abusive asshole.´ 

 

Peter had of course suspected that perhaps all the bruises covering young Stilinski wasn’t all due to the rough treatment the other wolves and students of Beacon Hills High School, he’d suspected by the presence of the kid in the loft and that there might be skeletons rattling in the closets of the Stilinski household. And yet he’d found it hard to believe Sheriff Stilinski could abuse his own son, his own flesh and blood. 

 

Stiles’ eyes widen almost comically at Jackson words, and if the situation had been much less unpleasant Peter might have taken a shot at the kid’s appearance or simply snorted out a laugh at the ridiculous way Stiles looked with eyes as wide as saucers, but he can’t find amusement in any of it.

 

`Don’t call him that.´ Stiles yells and tries to push Jackson who doesn’t even sway a little at the force Stiles puts behind each shove, `It’s not his fault! ´ tears begin to stream down cheeks that should never have been bruised, ` It’s me, okay?´ Stiles moved from pushing to punching Jackson in the chest but Jackson didn’t seemed to feel the beats, and yet he grabbed Stiles by his fragile and already bruises wrists.

 

`Stiles, no, it’s this is not your fault.´ Jackson said while pulling Stiles as close as possible, and quickly moves his hands to trap the boy into a tight hug, `It’s not your fault.´ 

 

`Yes. Yes it is.´ Stiles cries, struggling against the much stronger and for now taller boy, ` I’m stupid, like you’ve said.´ Jackson who’d been shaking his head paused at once and looked rather startled, `I’m useless and I screw-up all the time.´ and Peter almost interjects but he can’t bring himself to tell Stiles that if anyone in the loft at the moment was useless it was Jackson or Isaac or Derek but Stiles was not one of them, but he can’t break this persona he’d created for himself not even for his favorite human. 

 

` It’s my fault not his.´ Stiles hiccups.

 

There was something highly unpleasant in hearing the way Stiles justified his bruises but the outburst was enough to give Peter the chance he needed to snatch a few of the papers on the floor.

 

`Stiles.´ Isaac Lahey whimpered reaching nervously towards the boy that continued to spew words of nonsense, but the beta didn’t have to courage to touch the boy who seemed to have the same home life Isaac had survived through; but perhaps not as cruel or violent as the one Isaac had survived through but none the less unpleasant. 

 

`No. No.´ Jackson says sharply holds the crying boy closer, `It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault.´ 

 

While Derek watches the interaction between young master’s Whittemore and Stilinski, eyes glowing crimson, Peter takes the chance to snatch several pieces of scattered papers off of the floor and sliding them inside his jacket.When Peter turns his attention back to Stiles and Jackson he is surprised to find that there was something incredibly tender about the way Jackson **** held the crying boy, it was all so very unlike the spoiled brat Peter had grown to know. There was something sorrowfully soft in the way Jackson continued to speak to young Stilinski, `Not your fault. I’ll take care of you, I promise.´ 

 

`I need to go home.´ Stiles hiccupped, his body held in place by Jackson who had his face buried in the buzz-cut hair of the human child, `I can’t let you go back, what if he kills you?´ 

 

`You need to stay here.´ Derek said moving towards Stiles and Jackson, and Peter knew he could leave without anyone catching him take his leave, and yet he wanted them to know that he was gone, and so with a clearing of his throat .

 

`While this has been riveting,´ Peter said backing away from the uncomfortable situation, he needed to find a place where he could inspect the papers that reeked of both Jackson and some man who was heavy on his cheap aftershave and preferred cheap cigarettes. Peter knew he just knew he would find something rather delicious in the little treasures he’d stolen. 

 

`Just leave,´ Jackson snapped immediately and Peter wanted to growl at the boy, to remind him his place but simple rolled his eyes, `We don’t need you or want you here.´ 

 

`Well then, I shall leave you to deal with young Stilinski’s little crisis.´ and with that Peter hurried out of the loft, but before he has a chance to close the door he hears Jackson say, `I’ve got you baby brother, and I’ll keep you safe from now on.´

 

** ~*~ **

 

Isaac felt his blood run cold he felt his stomach drop to the floor at the unpleasant sight of the bruises that littered the younger boy. Not too long ago Isaac had carried similar bruises, and from what Jackson was saying Stiles had received his marks from his father much like Isaac had his, the similarities brought back unpleasant memories Isaac had tried to forget because he was no longer that weak human he’d been; but it seemed you could never truly escape your past no matter how strong and powerful you became. 

 

Taking in the damage done to the boy who kept insisting it wasn’t the Sheriff’s doing, made Isaac feel surprisingly small and weak; and useless, absolutely useless. 

 

It baffled Isaac to know that Stiles who was always smiling and talking and laughing had been abused behind the closed doors of the Stilinski house simply because Isaac hadn’t been able to do it, Stiles hadn’t withdrawn into himself like Isaac had done Stiles hadn’t hid away like Isaac had while his father abused him what Stiles had done was a sign of his inner strength; Stiles had continued to smile and help not only Scott but also Derek’s pack even though they had done nothing to deserve Stiles’ assistance, it was all something Isaac couldn’t imagine himself capable of doing back when he was just human and living under the tyranny of his own father.

 

Stiles made him feel weak. 

 

Stiles was so different, so brave. But Stiles was also visibly confused and afraid, and Isaac truly felt bad for the boy who didn’t deserve all those hideous bruises blooming disgustingly on his pale skin.

 

Isaac couldn’t understand why Stiles hadn’t confined in him? He couldn’t understand why Stiles hadn’t just come to him when he knew what Isaac had been through with his own father? 

 

_ Because he doesn’t trust you,  _ an unpleasant voice said inside Isaac’s head, _why should he? You’ve pushed and punched him probably as much as his father has, taunted and belittled him day in and day out, locked him in his own locker once or twice just because you could. Why should he trust you?_ The cruel voice laughed at him as it pointed out each and every time Isaac had shown Stiles his place in his life by shoving him around and calling him names, he could suddenly recall every time he’d told Stiles how he was nothing. Isaac could remember all the times he’d told Stiles how no one liked him or cared about him. 

 

There’s something disturbing about the thought he’d been beating on the kid that was already getting abused at home.Isaac can’t even bring himself to look at Stiles when he starts crying and taking the blame for what had been done to him, each claim of guilt familiar to Isaac and so very untrue; even if Isaac has called Stiles stupid more times than he could honestly count, even if he and the others had laughed and taunted Stiles for a supposed lack of intellect, it wasn’t true because Stiles was anything but dumb **.**

 

Thinking about it now there had been obvious signs of things not being completely alright with Stiles, there had been things that Isaac should have noticed, such as the way Stiles might flinch and winch when taking a seat or when Scott would throw his arm or arms around the smaller boy, the way Stiles always wore clothes that covered him up well and truly as well as the way Stiles didn’t want to change in front of others. But Isaac hadn’t cared, didn’t want to care about anyone but himself. There had been bruises, bruises Isaac had seen, bruises everyone had seen but much like him he suspected they had all just thought it was from all the other students that shoved the kid around like he was absolutely worthless; but Stiles wasn’t worthless, he was worth something even to Isaac. 

 

Isaac’s miserable thoughts of guilt born from his blindness or unwillingness to see were yanked right out of his head when Stiles somehow gets free from Jackson’s hold and makes a dash for the exit. But Derek has the scrawny kid with limbs too long trapped against his body before Stiles even reaches the door, Stiles is screaming, hysterically, `I need to go home. Let me go. I need to go home.´ 

 

`Stiles.´ Derek sounds torn between being all “I’m the Alpha and you do as I say” and something strangely gentle and desperate, `You can’t. You need to stay here.´ Stiles let’s out an almost animalistic wail, legs kicking air because Derek’s got him off the floor, Stiles’ back pressed against Derek’s front arms and hands flailing and reaching towards the door that is growing once more very distant as Derek maneuvers both of them further away from the door. 

 

`I need to go home, please Derek, please I need to go.´ Stiles cries and Isaac can heart the terrible way Stiles’ heart races inside his weak body, `Someone please HELP ME.´ 

 

Isaac can’t handle it anymore, and he knows it’s not the greatest choice in action but he can’t watch the way Stiles is all panicked and desperate to go home to the person who’s been beating him for only God knows how long, and so he takes off running out of the flat tears in his eyes because he knows the fear Stiles must be experiencing; he knows it and it frightens him. 

 

** ~*~ **

 

Seeing Stiles make a dash for the door had Derek bolting right after him, he couldn’t allow Stiles to leave with the knowledge of what might wait for him back at the Stilinski house. Derek needs to keep what’s left of his family safe. 

 

Derek hates seeing Stiles like this all crying and screaming so desperate to go back to a person who would undoubtedly hurt him further. The Stiles Derek had met in the woods, the one who’d held his body from sinking into the depths of a pool had always seemed unbreakable to Derek, which was strange considering how the boy was 100% human and there for very fragile and breakable. But it was clear now that Stiles was broken, shattered much like Isaac had been and it was Derek’s job to help him especially considering that Stiles was family. 

 

Derek felt like a fool for not realizing the reasons why he’d thought more than once that Stiles smelled so very familiar and comforting, safe really the way family should smell; but Derek had refused to accept the boy into his life in anyway shape or form, he’d lost enough people in his life and he’d been hurt by too many humans to trust one unconditionally. **** But although Derek felt an immense sense of guilt for not accepting the truth for what it was or at least accepting the desire he’d felt to keep Stiles safe and close, he could sink into the guilt later once Stiles had settled. ****

 

Stiles keeps screaming and crying, begging to be allowed to go back to the man who’d in some way stolen his cousin only to beat Stiles black and blue. Although the easier thing for Derek would be to just let the smaller boy go the Alpha just couldn’t allow him to leave, Stiles as his cousin the one cousin who had been the tiniest baby Derek had ever seen and therefor Derek had named Peter’s youngest son Peanut; sure Derek hadn’t thought much of the appearance of the baby.

 

Derek hushes Stiles who is just screaming and crying, and he feels utterly helpless because he has no idea how to comfort this kid who’s been driving him crazy for months and months . This kid who is his cousin a cousin he and Laura had been told was dead, crushed to death by Peter’s own body, is fighting to get free so he could go back to a person who’d abused him for what could be for years. 

 

The Alpha does notice Isaac taking off, running away reeking of distress and tears which causes Derek to feel rather horrible because Isaac is his responsibility. However, Isaac is at the moment safe able to come and go as he please without having to fear a great beating unlike Stiles who’s go from begging him to let him leave to just screaming like a mad-man; the situation is dreadful and the way Stiles’ heart is racing within his fragile chest told Derek that Stiles was about to exhaust his heart to a breaking point. 

 

And when heart finally gives just a little the sound of the sudden glitch in the raced beats is almost as bad as feeling the weight of Stiles’ unconscious body in his arms, it takes everything in Derek not to lose it when Stiles went completely silent and limp in his arms; there’s a small voice in his head that reminds him that Stiles isn’t dead but it’s only when Derek can focus his hearing on the beat of Stiles’ heart that begins to beat in a reasonable pace. 

 

Without a word or a look at Jackson Derek Hale picks the unconscious boy into his arms as if Stiles had become a bride, and began to carry the unconscious boy upstairs to one of the spare rooms Boyd occupied at times, there was another spare room which he would make into Stiles’ but for now Stiles had to stay the night in the room that smelled like Boyd. Jackson followed him, face unusually pale and expressionless, and as they moved the short distance Derek couldn’t stop remembering a time when little Jack Hale had followed him around like a little puppy and Jack Hale was Jackson Whittemore now and Jackson hated him and if Derek had to be honest he didn’t care much for Jackson Whittemore. 

 

 


	6. A House Does Not Make a Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’d long ago accepted that the fire that had burned away the life he’d loved to live, he’d accepted it without hesitation or doubt. He’d accepted his life… but was it a mistake to accept it so readily?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short little chapter, which is more focused on Peter than the others.

 

The apartment was surprisingly uninviting to Peter not because it lacked furniture’s or a few decorative pillows or books for it had it all, but the apartment was in its design and décor designed for a bachelor not for a man who’d lived for several years with a wife and child and so the apartment was doomed to never truly please Peter or bring him any form of comfort. Peter missed the scent of a house that was lived and where little messy hands touched everything while learning to crawl and later walk and run, Peter missed the scent of his mate and the fresh flowers that had always a place in their home sure he could buy fresh flowers but it just wasn’t the same or enough to sooth his aching heart. ****

 

The man who had successfully father two beautiful boys missed the colorful unartistic scribbles his oldest son had created plastered on the fridge door as well as on the cabinets because each messy piece was loved far more than the ridiculously expensive pieces of art adorning the walls of the apartment he now dwelled in. Peter missed the sound of tiny feet running around and loud little yelps and giggles, as well as excited screams that had hurt his sensitive ears. Peter even missed stumbling over toys that had once been a part of his daily life. 

 

Peter Hale hated the apartment he lived in regardless of its price and expensive décor it was too big and far too silent. Peter hated having to return to an empty home, a home without a single item of the happier life he had lived before Kate Argent stole it all away with her cruel madness. 

 

Peter dropped the bundle of keys that gave him access to various parts of this new life he lived, the keys clanged against the bowl that held no true value to the werewolf even if it had been unreasonably expensive, it could shatter into a million pieces for all he cared.Peter had surrounded himself with expensive trinkets but none of them would hold a candle if he could find a single item of the life he’d lived with his mate and children; he’d gladly give all the riches of his family for just a picture of his mate and children or one of Jackie’s stuffed toys or one of the little onesies his newborn son had worn even if it had been worn but a single time. Peter would give _anything_ to have an item with the scent of his family attached to it. 

 

Hanging his jacket up for the night and removing his shoes as well as his socks, placing them by habit inside his shoes, Peter couldn’t help the thoughts that ventured into his head; he remembered the first day he came home to find Jackie throwing his little arms around his leg, screaming excitedly, `Daddy! Daddy home! ´ 

 

Peter had loved coming home to his mate and child, and for a painfully short while he had loved coming home to his mate and children. Unlike his friends and co-workers Peter chose to always go straight home from work, never pausing at a watering hole to grab beer with the guys; he literally raced home, earning several speeding tickets. 

 

There was no greater feeling of achievement in Peter’s mind then and now than having the courage and love and above all endurance to build a family of your own; a pack could easily be created and managed, but a family required unconditional love. **** Peter had in his youth, and he was sure he wasn’t the only one, thought that he was incapable of unconditional love towards any person, but then Meredith appeared and everything changed; and when Jackie was born and as the little boy grew Peter came to see he’d been born to love and care for someone small and innocent, and from the moment he had heard the heartbeat of his child he felt a completely new form of love it was one that consumed him whole. ****

 

And by the stars how Peter missed the love he had once felt, one now overshadowed by the grief that threatened to drive him back into madness. 

 

Traveling across the distance between the front-door and the black leather couch that was not so much made for comfort as it was created for the sake of luxury and appearance, most of the furniture’s lacked comfort simply for the sake of benefit the overall appearance of the décor of the apartment. 

 

The appearance of Peter’s dwellings would have made his mate cringe, and she would have refused to live in not only the apartment but also the rather souls building, and if Meredith had lived and returned to him she would have snorted out in distain, “Why Mr. Bond what dull taste you have.” Perhaps it was the knowledge that his mate would never have made her home in such a dreadful place that had made Peter settle within the apartment that lacked any real personality.

 

Peter settled on the couch with a sorrowful sigh, once more finding himself wishing he had stayed dead after Derek put him down. Unwilling to give another second to the miserable thought, Peter focused on the documents he had taken into his possession. Spreading out the documents he had taken on the rather cold and charmless coffee table which held as much character as the rest of the expensive surroundings did, Peter hoped that within the pages he would find something useful or at least entertaining. 

 

The first piece of paper he picked up and scanned through held no great interest for him it was simply a sliver of information on Jackson’s adopted father, it held nothing Peter didn’t already know. The second piece of paper was no more interesting than the first one the document held information on some agency that handled adoptions and as the third and fourth documents continued to give him nothing of great importance he grew more and more frustrated.

 

But as he took document number five he found another one beneath it, document number six paused the beating of his heart for there he did not only find the name of his mate but also an image of her a year or two before he’d come across her, that single page held information on his darling wife and none of what he read was new to him. The document told of how his Meredith had been incredibly intelligent and yet she’d been less interested in making a name for herself academically than what she had been when it came to creating a life with him.

 

_ `We could wait,´ Peter said although it felt like he wanted nothing more than to chock himself with a piano cord instead of suggesting what he was about to, `until you’re ready with…´ he stared down at the white stick that told him he and Meredith were expecting a child. A child he wanted with every fiber of his being, but he couldn’t demand this much from the woman he loved. _

 

_ `Stop.´ Meredith snapped snatching the stick out of his hand, eyes hard with anger, `If you don’t want the baby you can leave.´ She pointed at the door of their small apartment with the stick that had been soaked in her urine, and her words shocked him because he wanted the baby as much as he wanted to keep his mate with him forever and for her to suggest that he didn’t want the baby was just ridiculous.  _

 

_ Peter was up and off of their bed that was barely big enough for the both of them, and framed the beautiful but still glaring face of his mate and simply kissed his her silent. _

 

_ `You have no idea how much I want this baby, ´ he confessed voice breathless before kissing her once more. _

 

_ `But I would never want to cripple your dreams.´ he confessed heart still trembling inside his aching chest, still fearful that his Meredith would choose to rid the child from her womb once she realized what keeping the child would do for her dreams. _

 

_ `But **this** , this **is** what **I** want.´ Meredith said without a hint of lie, `I want a baby. I want **your** baby.´ her words brought such joy to his heart that Peter didn’t believe he could ever voice the joy he felt at that moment, `I want little feet running around and little hands making grabby hands and sneaking into the cookie jar.´  _

 

Peter felt the first set of tears make their escape and so quickly he placed the piece of paper down on the couch next to him, he would frame the image of his mate and duplicate it if possible so he could carry one in his pocket at all times. He would finally have an image of his mate, to carry around with him until death. 

 

Peter gave himself a minute to compose himself. He struggled to understand why someone wanted to know about the Whittemore’s and his mate?Peter gave himself time to ponder the question’s that were born by what he had discovered, hethought about possible reasons for a minute or two before concluding none of the ideas his slightly shaken mind created were all beyond ridiculous. 

 

Peter could easily squeeze the answers he wanted from Jackson or the Whittemore’s themselves, so why waste time on silly thoughts? 

 

Peter picks up another piece of paper, unpleasantly surprised to find it full of information on him, on him before the fire **** speaking of him as the man he had once been, holding even an image of him and his family soon after Jackie’s birth the information halts his stubborn heart that had refused to stop even after he had lost _everything._ He feels surprisingly violated by the knowledge someone had been digging up information on his life and family.

 

Peter abandons the piece of paper with the information about himself not throwing it to the floor as he had done with the pages of no importance, placing the paper with an image of his little family down next to the one of his mate; his heart trembling with sorrow joy as he now hold images of what he had lost. 

 

A few more pieces of no great importance to him are discarded to the floor one by one until something that brings Peter Hale into a complete stop with eyes wide and hands trembling.The piece of paper is a copy of a seemingly legal adoption that had been made only days after the fire that had ruined his family and pack. 

 

Peter stares down at a document that holds both his and Meredith’s names but signatures are frauds, he knows this not simply because he has never in his life signed a single adoption paper, it’s the way Meredith’s e’s aren’t slanted to the left correctly and the shapes of their h’s are all wrong while the r’s are either far too recognizable or not enough, and the P of his own name is far too large and chubby to truly be his creation.

 

Peter’s heart was racing and trembling within his body that had begun to shake as if he was suffering from a dreadful fever,this was all a response to the information held by the seemingly legal piece of paper that suggests something Peter struggled to believe in; according to the document in his slightly less human hands, his son Jackie had survived the fire that had consumed their family and not only had Jackie survived but he had been adopted by the Whittemore’s. 

 

All kinds of emotions exploded within him, and Peter struggled to believe and not believe the idea that his precious son was alive and living as the dislikable Jackson Whittemore. 

 

But slowly the idea that his little boy had survived settled in the mind of the werewolf and questions that had at times born within Peter when dealing with Jackson began to find their answers. Questions like why Jackson had always smelled strangely familiar to him suddenly answered, there were suddenly answers to such questions as why Peter hadn’t lunged and killed Jackson when he had been a crazed Alpha desperate and hungry for revenge, and so many other questions that had rose within Peter’s mind once he returned from the dead without the mindless desire to paint Beacon Hills bloody red. ****

 

As the idea that his son, his little Jackie-boy, was alive and strong settled in Peter’s shaken mind, the sting of tears began to burn behind his eyes.As the knowledge that his son hadn’t chocked on the suffocating smoke that had made it nearly impossible for Peter to breathe, Peter felt like he’s heart was about to explode right out of his chest; and he was incapable of narrowing down the emotions that rushed through him and his wolf as they came to realize that their pup had survived, that they had managed to save one of their cubs. 

 

The sudden knowledge that they hadn’t failed entirely at their duty lessened some of the sever guilt both man and beast had felt for years and years, brought out a loud sob from the shaking body seated in a lonely apartment.

 

There was a mixture pure outrage and indescribable joy flooding Peter as he continued to reread the words and names on the document, but there was also a deep sorrow that continued to claw at his heart like a vicious beast for Peter might have found what he’d lost but Peter had still lost so much do to the passing of years;  ** ** years that were lost and never to be returned to him, years during which Peter had been separated from his son although Peter knew his own wounded state had made it impossible for him to care and raise his son right. ** **

 

Peter had been near his son for months, he had been close enough to touch Jackie and yet Peter hadn’t had a clue that his son had been right there all this time. And he felt terribly ashamed for his blindness.

 

Growing aware that his only living son was possibly at the very moment in his nephews loft, breathing and talking, so very much alive, Peter feels a great need to see his son and embrace him and take him back. And so with this need to do something other than just sit there in his dreary apartment, Peter leaves his apartment with only the clothes on his back and the keys he needs **** in his hand as well as a few of the papers he’d stolen off of the loft floor, with no shoes and no jacket Peter races back to his car.

 

Peter needed to see Jackie, he has to see and talk to his little Jackie; Peter had already wasted too many years, and there was no more time left to waste or rather he was no longer willing to waste a single day. 

 

Peter slips into his car rather ungracefully body expressing how shaken he truly was by the sudden revelation that his son lived. Peter nearly drops most of the papers on the floor of the vehicle, and he does drop the keys which is almost as frustrating as the length of the drive to loft where his nephew had set-up a miserable home. He nearly has an accident four times during reasonably short drive. ** ** As he drives and barely avoids crashing his car, he hopes and prays that his son would still be at his cousins dwelling. 

 

_ Please be there, please be there Jackie my boy,  _ Peter thought over and over again as he drove as fast as he possibly could without entirely losing control of the car after all Peter couldn’t afford to crash his car now, he had to reach his son.

 

_ I’m coming Jackie. Daddy will be with you soon.  _

 


	7. Escape Me Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escaping your own past or guilt can never be describe as an easy thing to do, even if you hold within you enough power to snap bones and crack skulls, for there are things no matter what you do you can never truly escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what just happened.

 

Isaac Lahey ran. He ran as fast as he could further and further away from the building where another person was dealing with the same pains and damages he’d suffered not too long ago. **** Isaac ran without any clear vision of where he was heading, his shoeless feet hitting the ground hard and fast, his rattled mind bringing forth memories of a time when he’d been just a human boy subdued and humiliated by the abusive nature of his own father, those painful memories resurfacing cruel and fast as if inspired by the steps he took.

 

Isaac had stubbornly and perhaps somewhat unreasonably pushed his past into a deep little draw at the back of his mind trying to ignore who he had once been, and while fighting to ignore his past Isaac embraced the newer stronger person he’d become. But regardless of the strength beneath his skin seeing Stiles covered in familiar marks was like getting visited by a terrible ghost from a past he’d tried to escape thus causing Isaac to struggle with his own past yet again, and the slowly growing guilt he felt do to the fact that he knew that he’d bruised the younger boy more than once; hell, Isaac had that very day at school shoved Stiles out of his way so hard that the kid had hit the floor in a heap causing fellow students to laugh and point at the teary eyed child that whimper a little at the unwanted attention. 

 

_ You’re as bad as your father,  _ a cold and harsh voice snarled inside his head, _beating those weaker than you just because they annoy you, anger you, just because they’re smarter than you, just because they’re better than you._

 

Isaac shook his head while still running, trying to shake the words and memories right out of his head, but no matter how hard he shook his head none of the images or words left him, he didn’t want to know what he now knew about the life of Stiles Stilinski’s. Isaac couldn’t understand how he hadn’t noticed any signs of abuse that Stiles must have shown, or perhaps Isaac had simply ignored them because why should he care about some little kid?

 

_ And you enjoyed it, didn’t you? Hurting him because he was weaker and you were stronger, it made you feel good,  _ the voice snarled, _you are just like your father._

 

Trying to outrun his own memories and guilt was impossible but Isaac had to try. 

 

Isaac didn’t stop running until there was an unpleasant heaviness weighing down each step he took, until a dull ache finally brought him to a stop on a familiar looking street where perfect little house for young families stood side by side. He could smell Stiles here and there about the street as if the boy had walked up and down until finally making his way towards the house across the street from where Isaac was standing. 

 

The Stilinski House seemed perfectly ordinary but Isaac knew from personal experience that the most ordinary looking house could hold within its wall unpleasant skeletons. Even from across the street he could smell the sickening stench of fear, blood and tears as well as a great deal of alcohol. The stench made Isaac feel incredibly restless. 

 

_ Maybe little Stiles was locked-up all tight and snug in his own little freezer in the basement,  _ the mean little voice said, and the thought of someone else being trapped inside a freezer screaming and crying for an escape made Isaac’s eyes flash yellow and blunt human teeth turn just a tad bit too sharp. 

 

`This is _not_ my fault! ´ The familiar voice of Sheriff Stilinski yelled from within the house, causing Isaac to jump just a little it was an involuntary action that made him feel like the weak kid he’d been before his Alpha had stepped in and changed his life;it was that movement that made Isaac see red because he wasn’t weak anymore, he was a strong and powerful werewolf who shouldn’t jump just because of some human yelling.

 

It was the unpleasant sensation of weakness that had Isaac crossing the street. Isaac was barely in control of the beast demanding to be set free, a beast that wanted to kill and destroy the monster hiding behind four walls and a badge. 

 

Reaching the front-door of yet another house of horrors Isaac felt his control slip while listening to the abusive father continue to yell at some unfortunate soul at the other end of the line, Isaac continued to fist and un-fist his hands which were sporting claws instead of fingernails that he had been born with and yet when the Sheriff snapped out a furious, `FINE.´ Isaac still flinched the way he had always done when his own father had lost his frail temper with him. 

 

** ** `Listen to me, ´ the Sheriff snarled almost as good as Isaac could, ` you take care of yours and I take care of mine. Got it.´ then there was the little mumbling of words that finally snapped what little control Isaac had left, `I swear Stiles once I get my hands on you you’ll need a fucking wheelchair to leave this house.´ 

 

The door breaks easily and the sickening stench of alcohol and pain hits the werewolf disgustingly hard, the stench was nauseating.

 

The sudden break-in had the drunken man hurrying from the direction of the kitchen one hand searching for support from the nearby wall and the other clutching bottle of beer, the bottle fell to the floor the second the man of law saw the furious werewolf who was determined to stop any further harm to come to young Stiles Stilinski, the stench of the liquid growing stronger as it spread over the floor while the human stood stark still eyes wide and mouth agape in shock and surely horror.

 

Isaac would have found amusement in the reaction of the lawman at any other time, but the stench of old blood that surely had once belonged inside of Stiles body was enough to kill any sense of bemusement. Instead of laughter escaping Isaac a roar did, and that sound was enough to cause the abusive drunk to wet himself but the fresh scent of urine and fear did nothing to calm the werewolf who began to stalk towards the man who was unarmed and stumbling backwards; and the fear of the human was absolutely delicious to the werewolf who was determined to keep the man away from Stiles forever if need be. 

 

No longer bothered by the rule of hiding, Isaac Lahey showed of his fangs and claws, showing those sharp instruments of power and destruction. 

 

`Y-y-your o-one of t-those m-m-monsters.´ the sheriff managed to stutter before Isaac roared at him, shutting the man up rather well. 

 

Deaf to the words spoken Isaac began to approach the human that had dared to harm someone smaller and weaker than him. 

 

_ You’ve done it too,  _ the voice in Isaac head hissed, _and you are much more powerful than his father._ Isaac growled at the words spoken within his head but his attention was on the man who would never again dare to raise a hand against the bruised and beaten kid that Jackson had brought to the loft, once Isaac was finished with Sheriff Stilinski the abusive man would never again dare to raise his hand against young Stiles. 

 

Approaching the man who stumbled backwards eyes wide with fear and mouth agape Isaac did nothing to try and stifle the rage within him. It irritated Isaac to see the abuser making a feeble attempt at escaping the judgment and punishment he would be executing. But the escape was at best a frail attempt that was doomed to fail and so it was no surprise that the man who had been severely intoxicated, but the fear driven into him by the sudden arrival of a very displeased werewolf had sobered the man up a bit; the sheriff stumbled on his own feet until he dropped to the floor allowing Isaac to loom over the man who had dared to lay a hand on his only child.

 

Isaac was sure Stiles had much like he had grown accustom to the beatings the sheriff gave him for whatever reason. Isaac was certain that Stiles had grown to accept the beatings much like Isaac had done, but it wasn’t only that thought that made the werewolf feel unwell it was also the knowledge that it wasn’t until Sheriff Stilinski hadasked Isaac about his bruises and suggested rather successfully that Isaac shouldn’t accept the harm his father was quick to bestow him that Isaac had allowed himself to begin to doubt the legality of the pain his father bestowed him.

 

There was no telling for how long exactly Stiles had been abused by the man on the floor but it really didn’t matter for the damage that had been done, and it would never truly leave Stiles it would always be there beneath the skin ready to haunt Stiles’ dreams and thoughts.

 

_ Little Stiles is probably used to your beatings as well,  _ the voice said all sharp and unpleasant and Isaac struggled to ignore that very possibility that his own mistreatment of the smaller boy had become an unquestioning part of Stiles Stilinski’s life.

 

`I-I…?´ the Sheriff stutters while continuing to try and move further away from him, but Isaac grabs him by the throat.

 

`P-please d-don’t.´ the abuser chocked out, desperate hands trying to force the hold Isaac had of him to release but there was nothing the older male could do to make him stop not after what he had done and threatened to do to Stiles. 

 

`Did you stop? ´ Isaac snarled into the face of Sheriff Stilinski.

 

_ Did you? _ The cruel voice asked, and Isaac knew the answer; he’d never really stopped not until Stiles cried or Scott told him to stop, but he’d only ever stopped for a moment before going back to mistreating the smaller boy.

 

`Did you stop when he cried and begged you to? ´ Isaac growled, the idea of Stiles on the floor, curled up as best he could while trying to protect his head and face for the simple sake of keeping the dirty little secret that the well-respected sheriff of Beacon Hills was an abusive bastard, and all the while begging the man to just stop hurting him made Isaac’s blood boil, `Did you?! ´ 

 

There’s no answer, no real one, the man just stares up at him gaping up at him like a fish on dry land growing more and more aware of the death that was threatening to come. But Isaac doesn’t care because he knows the answer, and so he frees just a smidge of the anger within him and without any sense of shame he begins to beat the man the way he wished he had done to his own father. He does however control his own anger enough not to kill the human for death was a far too kind of an end to someone like Sheriff Stilinski.

 

Isaac drops the man to the floor once there’s blood escaping from the mouth and nose, the blood settles the anger to a gentle vibration beneath the werewolf’s skin. Isaac dries the blood off of his hand on a clean patch on the Sheriff’s shirt while growling into the face that would swell into and unrecognizable shape soon enough, `If you so much as touch Stiles ever again, I will make sure that no one will find your body and if they do it will only be a tiny piece.´

 

The threat he makes is real, Isaac would no longer tolerate Stiles being abused, not by anyone. 

 

** **

 


	8. Guilty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There had been a time when Jackson wouldn’t have so much was shrugged his shoulders at the sight of Stiles Stilinski losing consciousness, but now things had changed so when he watched Stiles go completely limp in the arms of Derek Hale it was only the knowledge that Stiles heart was still beating that kept Jackson from losing control; it was that pleasant beat that kept Jackson from attacking the Alpha, it was the knowledge that Stiles was alive that kept Jackson from losing his mind and going feral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it has been forever and a month since I’ve posted anything in regards to this story. My apologize darlings. But here we have a small chapter featuring Big Bro Jackson, and Alpha/cousin Derek and little brother Stiles.

 

 

** **

 

Unlike the universal belief which was spurred on by the great gossipers of Beacon Hills High School, Jackson Whittemore didn’t start out hating the boy who’d slipped through the doors of the high school. The anger and resentment didn’t start immediately, how could it when all the boy with clothes several sizes too big and obviously bought from a thrift-store did was walk into the building,his first instinct was to guide the kid who was far too young to participate in the massively dysfunctional hierarchy that was High School out of the goddamn building and back to where the boy belonged. Jackson’s instinct was to steer rather than drag the child that didn’t in all honesty look to be but a few years younger than Danny’s little sister Gwen, he wanted to take the boy back to his own school just down the road where the kid could still be just that a child; but before he could do just that Scott McCall appeared next to the small boy with pale skin which was dotted with dark moles, with a goofy grin on his face Scott started to steer the smaller kid down the hall.

 

Jackson didn’t start out hating Stiles because he followed Scott around like a little puppy, while Scott behaved like some dopey Labrador. He didn’t start hating the boy simply because he felt strangely rejected by the kid that was whispered to be something of a genius, and he had felt rejected when the boy with the strange name refused to stray away from Scott’s side whom Jackson had disliked for years. 

 

Disliking Stiles didn’t start until the odd little boy pointed out Jackson’s mathematical mistake in class on the very second day of school.Sure, the kid that wasn’t nearly old enough to attend high school had tried to alert Jackson to the mistake of numbers he’d made without drawing too much attention but Jackson had been too enthralled by Lydia’s beauty to notice anything but her,it was only when the kid raised his voice just a hint while the class unfortunately at that moment fell quiet causing thus everyone in the room to learn how Jackson Whittemore was dumber than some little kid that couldn’t passed as a pre-teen. 

 

Everyone from Lydia to his teammates heard the Stilinski kid, and Jackson knew it wouldn’t take longer than a second or two for the news to spread through the grapevine that Jackson Whittemore was nothing more than a good-looking-jock who had shit for brains,and that was something Jackson couldn’t endure with his headheld high or with even a resemblance of grace; and so Jackson retaliated as soon as class was over by shoving the smaller boy out of his way causing the boy to lose his balance and crash into one of the guys on the wrestling team who just happened to have a sever caffeine addiction.Jackson had watched the scene unfold before him, he’d seen the coffee that had been held spill all-over the perky and somewhat obnoxious cheerleader called Samantha or Sarah who screamed hysterically while flailing with her arms just enough to hit Lydia Martin in the face, the chain reaction cemented Stiles’ future as a complete loser and thus creating a permanent target on the smaller boys back.

 

At the time when the cheerleader was screaming hysterically and Lydia was sobbing because her nose was bleeding and the bloody fluid was ruining her new dress, Jackson hadn’t felt the slightest bit guilty or bad because the red-faced wrestler had turned on Stiles who was apologizing profusely; that was the first day of many when Stiles Stilinski got pushed around and hit, and that was first day no one came to his rescue.But the guilt Jackson hadn’t been able to feel came around the moment Jackson learned that the ridiculously intelligent loser was his little brother, and it washed over him hard and fast, made only greater because of the knowledge that his baby brother had not only been suffering cruelty at school but also at the hands of the sheriff.

 

With the knowledge of what Stiles was to him the seemingly deep-rooted irritation and dislike he’d felt vanished and were replaced with a strong desire to protect. Jackson had never felt such a deep need to care for someone as he did when confronted with the knowledge that he had a little brother that _needed_ him; and no one had ever _needed_ Jackson before, at least not to his knowledge.

 

Of course the guilt, which Jackson had every right to feel, couldn’t be washed away as easily as it was to accept the knowledge that he had little brother, and Jackson knew he would have to deal with the guilt sooner or later as well as his brother’s distrust and possible fear of him, but for now he would ignore it all for the sake of focusing on taking care of his brother;and it became very clear his priorities were rightfully directed towards the wellbeing of his brother when he watched the breakdown his baby brother had while fighting to return to the man who’d as good as stolen Stiles from Jackson.

 

Watching his baby brother plead to be allowed to return to the abusive thief was enough to create a sickening sensation within Jackson’s belly.He felt completely useless and lost when faced with the display of twisted loyalty and love Stiles held towards the man the werewolf wanted to beat into a bloody pulp,he held no knowledge of how to turn that fierce loyalty from the sheriff towards himself or how to keep Stiles by his side considering how Jackson had almost been as ruthless and cruel as the Sheriff seemed to have been.

 

The change a small piece of information could do was astonishing, for there had been a time when Jackson wouldn’t have so much as shrugged his shoulders at the sight of Stiles Stilinski crying or losing consciousness. But now knowing what he knew and having to witness his brother go from crying and screaming and fighting to something completely opposite, being forced to watch as Stiles lost consciousness was something utterly disturbing.

 

There had indeed been a time when seeing Stiles completely limp and unresponsive would have been a force of entertainment and several cruel jokes for Jackson, but things had changed and the only thing that was keeping Jackson from losing control of the fanged beast was the knowledge that Stiles heart was still beating; it was that sound that assured him that his brother wasn’t dead but alive and it kept Jackson from lunging at the Alpha, it was that sound of unyielding beats that kept him from going completely feral.

 

`He’s fine. He’s fine.´ the Alpha repeated sounding rather like it was _his_ baby brother and not Jackson’s who’d slipped into a state of unconsciousness. And with an unfamiliar tenderness Jackson had never seen before Derek picked up Stiles into his arms like some precious bride or a dearly loved child, while still repeating the mantra of _he’s fine._ It was all very strange and Jackson wasn’t sure whether to be thankful for the gentleness the Alpha was showing or to allow the whispering possessiveness within him to taint the moment. 

 

Without a word of warning the Alpha began to move towards the spiral stairs that vanished upwards towards an area Jackson was not familiar with, then again he was barely familiar with the vast and somewhat empty space of the front room of Derek’s miserable dwellings. Jackson followed the Alpha, who was unfortunately his and Stiles’ cousin and that piece of information was a can of worms Jackson wasn’t prepared to deal with at the present moment much like he was not even willing to think about the fact that Peter Hale was their father. 

 

Derek took great care of keeping Stiles limbs and head from bumping into anything that could contribute to the already bruised skin and injured body, and throughout the journey towards one of the spare rooms that wasn’t used by Isaac there was a single and stubborn though in Jackson’s mind and that was the knowledge that this was nothing more than a temporary solution. 

 

_ This, this is only temporary,  _ Jackson thought bitterly as he watched the Alpha handle his brother, carrying his little brother around like he’d been forged to do just that when it was obvious it was Jackson’s job to carry Stiles if the need were to arise.

 

_ This is just a temporary arrangement until I can figure out a better arrangement for us;  _ Jackson thought as he followed the werewolf he didn’t care much for. Jackson watched as Derek placed Stiles carefully down on the only piece of furniture in the room which was next-door to the one that reeked of Isaac, the matrass was still covered in plastic and there were no pillows or blankets in sight. 

 

`There’s a spare pillow and blanket in Isaac’s room.´ Derek said while rearranging Stiles limbs into a far more comfortable position, the order had Jackson nearly protesting until his wolf reminded him that the pillow and blanket were not for the Alpha’s benefit but their brother’s and so Jackson went off in search of said items, grumbling the word that promised a change to this short term living arrangement. 

 

By the time Jackson returned to the small room with one of the walls and the slanted ceiling attached to it serving as a one great big window, a window stained with more than just pigeon poo, Derek had turned on the old and now clanking radiator and had begun to remove the socks of the feet that hadn’t been wearing shoes; it took seeing those feet covered in a pair of dull grey socks for Jackson to realize he’d dragged Stiles out of the house without shoes on his feet, it was yet another feather in the hat of glorious failures at being a brother. But before Jackson had any chance of truly slip into thoughts of deep self-loathing or doubt he heard a gasp of horror escape Derek.

 

`What the hell did that asshole do to him? ´ Derek growled, eyes a glowing crimson while glaring down at the disgustingly bruised foot in his hands.

 

Jackson stared down at the foot that looked no less damaged than the long slender arms of the boy who lay unconscious on a bed. And as Derek removed the sock of the other foot both of the werewolves in the room flashed their eyes in anger for if the right foot looked like a mess then the left one was like a disaster area, both of Stiles feet were carrying the disturbing markings of abuse and neglect.

 

Taking in the sorrowful shape of his brother’s feet Jackson began to understand why Stiles had been moving slower and with even less grace than usual, he understood now why the human hadn’t even tried to escape Jackson when the werewolf had taken his frustration on Stiles earlier that day.

 

_ Oh God, I’m as bad as the Sheriff _ , Jackson thought before racing out of the room and into the small bathroom at the end of the hall, a bathroom that reeked like Isaac and no one else, Jackson barely reached the small sink before his stomach lurched and he began to vomit up everything he had been drinking before learning about his family. The guilt he felt sat heavy in his stomach, like led-weights that couldn’t be expelled even with surgery, and no matter how much he threw up the liquid that hadn’t tasted all that brilliant going down he continued to feel like shit. 

 

~*~

 

Derek decides to give Jackson a minute to gather his thoughts and emotions and instead focuses on the abused boy, leeching away the aches and pains from the delicate body through which a similar blood as his own ran in never ending laps.Seated there at the foot of the bed keeping the bruised feet on his lap Derek asked himself if his fears and suspicions towards humans had influenced his way of viewing the human boy who’d seemed unable to keep his up-turn of a nose from poking into affairs that hadn’t not concern him,or rather things Derek had thought didn’t concern the little human for now it seemed like Stiles had been entirely within his rights when it came to the werewolf-debacle of Beacon Hills.Derek had to question whether or not he would have noticed that anything had been wrong with Stiles if he hadn’t seen in every human being the evil that was Kate Argent.

 

While he sat there holding the delicate boned feet which were swollen and bruised Derek was given the time to ponder whether or not his loathing for humans was the reason he’d never questioned why there was something positively familiar about both Jackson’s and Stiles’ scents,Derek knew he’d been ignoring the way his wolf had been so strangely comfortable and settled with the two boys while with his own betas the wolf had always been a little bit on the edge; cautious for there was no family-bond there to keep him safe. This damage done to Stiles was the price for Derek’s fears, if he’d cared more for this boy who’d been brought to him to keep safe then perhaps the Alpha would have asked the important questions like “Why did Stiles constantly reek of pain and discomfort” or “Why Stiles smelled of fear around the Sheriff”. 

 

There are a lot of aches and pains in the small body and Derek finds his fangs drop and eyes flashing crimson because he knows from the pain he feels that beneath all those ridiculous layers of well-worn fabrics there are a lot more bruises to be found, there might even be a few cracked bones. The more he drained away the hurt the more Stiles seemed to melt into the matrass, the sight made both Derek and the wolf in him whine and whimper. 

 

`I know you probably can’t hear me,´ Derek said as he finished removing the unreasonable pains that had been throbbing within the pale body of his cousin, a cousin Derek had called Walnut and Peanut and unfortunately Sir. Drools-A-Lot that one had earned him a glare from both of his parents as well uncle Peter and his favorite auntie,`but I promise you I’m going to take care of you. I’m going to keep you safe, okay? ´ While carefully tucking in the body that felt cold to his touch, Derek hadn’t forgotten how his mother had fussed over Baby Boy Hale reminding Peter and anyone else who was prepared to listen to her how they couldn’t dress the little boy as if he was born a wolf because human babies got cold and sick far more easier, he remembered how jealous some of his cousin’s had been because they thought that because of Baby Boy Hale whom Derek’s father had wanted to be named Arthur or Percival was human, Derek continued to promise the unconscious pre-teen that his life would be better from now on. 

 

After tucking Stiles in Derek slipped out of the bedroom which really was far too big and bland for a kid, it was a room befitting Derek’s gloom, the room was dull and cold not warm or colorful befitting a preteen with a love for comic’s and the colors red and blue. Derek would make sure that this bleak room would be turned into a space where Stiles’ could relax and find peace of mind, safety and security. 

 

Certain that he’d given Jackson enough time to deal with the whatever emotions that had sprung forth when the cruel sight ofStiles’ bruised feet Derek moved towards the closed door of the bathroom Stiles would be sharing with Isaac, he knocked at the door catching the attention of the one that had once been called Jackie; the was a slight jump and race in the heartbeat that belonged to a young man who treated all but Lydia Martine and Danny Mahealani like dirt. 

 

`Jackson? ´ 

 

`What?´Jackson croaked from behind the door, and Derek did feel some form of sympathy towards the person who had once been an adorable little kid but who’d grown up to become the poster child of vanity.

 

`He’s sleeping now.´ Derek begins, he’s unsure of how to speak to this person who’d rejected him, `I think we should talk, when you’re ready I’ll be downstairs.´Derek said before leaving Jackson too it, making his way downstairs in a slow steady pace pausing briefly to make sure that Stiles continues with his slumber. Thoughts revolving around Stiles and Jackson, as well Jackie and the baby they had planned to name during the following full-moon but the fire had ruined it all dance within Derek’s mind while he descends the spiral staircase, those thoughts fueling his want to kill Kate; he wishes he could rip her throat out with his teeth, and make her suffer as much as he and Stiles had been forced to suffer. Kate was however dead and perhaps it was for the best because now at least he could focus on helping Stiles instead of chasing after a revenge that would never undo the damage done, without the chance to sooth the bloodlust he was perhaps allowed the chance to build some sort of a relationship with Jackson and Stiles. 

 

Unsure of what to do made the Alpha uneasy, he was not born to become an Alpha that had been ordained for Laura for she’d had all the glorious traits of an Alpha while Derek was born to serve her and their pack as a beta. Derek was however an Alpha, he was the head of the pack and their family and it was Derek’s duty to keep each member safe, to care for them and with that thought the Alpha slipped into the small kitchen becoming painfully aware of how he would now require to refurnish this part of his humble dwellings. Derek rarely used this small space, and he knew as he inspected through the cabinets as well as the fridge that he had to start to restock his cabinets and the fridge to fit the needs of a human boy; a boy who looked starved and in need of a good meal. 

 

Derek started the brew some coffee not even certain if Jackson drank it, but there was one thing the Alpha knew what to do and that was how to make a good cup of coffee but that would hardly be of great use when it came to taking care of Stiles.

 

Derek had never thought about having a teenager and a pre-teen under his care at this stage of his life, but this was the situation he found himself in. Isaac was his responsibility because he was Derek’s beta and Derek had made turned him and thus offered him a roof over his head; he’d made promises to Isaac he could not break. And Stiles, Stiles was family and so Derek had to take care of the boy. Derek could hardly throw either one of the two boys out of his house and home he could hardly reject one or the other, cast one aside and keep the other close. 

 

Listening to the sound of the delicious dark liquid slowly working itself into the small pot Derek tried to ignoring the fears that started to whisper around within his mind, fears such as being rejected by the two remaining members of his family and what if Derek failed to protect Stiles and with those thoughts came the thought of what if Derek ended up doing Stiles harm than good;Derek knew that the fire had burned something away within him even though he hadn’t been anywhere near the flames, and what had been burned away was perhaps what Stiles would need the most.

 

But thankfully before Derek could sink too deeply into the pit of doubt and despair, his cousin Jack came walking down the stairs, Derek wishes not for the first time that his sister Laura was still alive; but Laura was dead and so Derek had to deal with life and all the aches that came with it alone. Breathing in and out a few times while waiting for his cousin to step inside the small space, he was attempting to calm his racing heart and mind hoping to keep his temper under wraps when speaking to Jackson who always seemed to rub him the wrong way. This was not the time to give into anger or resentment.

 

Jackson had washed his face but the scent of tears still clung to the younger male and he hardly looked as polished as he usually did, it startled Derek a little to see how much this situation with Stiles was affecting the same person who’d been bullying the abused and injured kid sleeping upstairs. 

 

`I took away some of his pain,´ Derek said his voice a little less firm and much more weaker than what he’d like, Jackson crossed his arms immediately and Derek knows that a storm is brewing within the younger man, `he should be comfortable enough for a few hours.´ Jackson simply gave him a short stiff nod. 

 

Derek opens his mouth to offer this angry cousin of his a cup of coffee but say something anything really although he doesn’t know what to say, but the sound of the heavy door sliding open breaks that moment and the scent of his uncle tells Derek Peter is back and he knows instinctually that his uncles return is not a blessing but a curse. 

 

`Peter.´ Derek grumbled before Jackson could turn around to see who’d come to call on the Alpha. Jackson visibly grows tense at the mention of this person who was both his and Stiles’ biological father. Derek doesn’t blame Jackson for his reaction for he knows all too well that Peter can’t be trusted. 

 


	9. Where?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He felt alive, alive in a way he hadn’t felt in years not since he had his mate and children at his side. Being an Alpha had not brought the same amount of vitality to him as the knowledge that his Jackie-boy was alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so before you start screaming about there still not being an interaction been daddy Peter and his boys I swear it will happen in the next chapter, but this one would have been so bloody long and my computer isn’t a happy little worker-bee at the moment, and yeah I could probably remove the memory thingy but I didn’t want to remove the little bit of Meredith Hale I have.

 

He felt alive, he felt alive in a way he hadn’t felt like for far too many years.The vitality he had felt during his short stint at being an Alpha was a pale comparison to the energy he felt pulsing within his body, this wonderful power that had nothing to do with strength was born from the knowledge he was no longer alone in the world.This newfound life force was one Peter had never experienced before and it was born with the revelation that his son was alive,that his Jackie was still alive and breathing and so very close gave him something he had lost in the fire alongside with his pack and family; there was hope was once more blooming within Peter Hale.Knowing that his son Jackie was very much alive gave Peter a high the werewolf had never experienced before, and nothing it seemed could cast a cloud over the happiness he was now experiencing, and it didn’t even matter that Jackie was just a little bit emotionally damaged which was nothing to be ashamed of considering the horrors his son had experienced on the horrid night when their family was burned to the ground with the rest of the Hales. And considering how Peter was broken in more ways than one there was no room to lay judgment upon his Jackson’s head.

 

_ Perhaps, _ Peter thought as he drove down the streets of Beacon Hills, _perhaps we might help mend each other_. 

 

Of course there was a slight sorrow settling inside of the werewolf alongside with the joy he felt from the knowledge that his son was alive, it was just to learn that his beautiful gentle hearted son had been twisted and turned into the young man like Jackson Whittemore caused him to feel rather torn. But at least Jackie was alive, it was more than Peter had ever thought ever possible. 

 

Driving towards his nephew’s somewhat bleak dwellings Peter’s thoughts often slipped back to little Jackie, one of his favorite ones kept playing inside his brain over and over again, it was easier to cling to pleasant thoughts instead of facing the possibility that he couldn’t have his son back in any shape or form. 

 

_ `Where?´ the little boy still wearing his cookie monster pajamas and slippers asked voice demanding and raw, he was standing on his tip-toes so he could get a better look at the screen that held a granny image of the inside of his mother’s belly.  _

 

_ It was three in the morning and instead of being tucked safely in bed like most little boys should be Peter Hale’s first born was wide awake and standing in the back room of the veterinary clinic waiting to see his baby brother for the first time. Jackie’s was wide awake simply because of his babysitter and unfortunately cousin Laura Hale who’d told the little boy such horrific lies that he’d been terrified enough to hide inside his closet where Meredith had found him curled up tightly with his teddy bear crying and trembling from head to toe.  _

 

_ `Where?´Jackie asked once more and still very demandingly but there was a quiver there that spoke of tears that threatened to come, and desperately wide eyes turned towards Peter who wasn’t sure what to say to his little boy whom he’d left in the hands of his niece. Laura had made a poor judgment call when letting out her frustration and unhappiness on little Jackie Hale but so had Peter by asking her to babysit when it was clear she’d had other plans, he’d made a wrong move going to his sister when Laura had refused to babysit, but still for Laura to tell Jackie his baby brother had been eaten by his mommy was just wrong and unforgivable.  _

 

_ `Where?´ Jackie turned his attention towards Alan Deaton, his little face flushed and scrunched up in an unhappy frown his beautiful eyes still irritably red because of all the crying he’d done. Peter was definitely going to make his niece pay for the heartache her stupidity had caused his little Jackie; for her to tell Jackie that there wasn’t going to be a baby because his mommy had eaten the baby brother he’d wished for so very long, it was just such a hurtful and damaging thing to do to a little child.  _

 

_ Laura was going to pay and not simply by returning the babysitting money he’d given her, she was going to pay with flesh and bones for there was no way she could just walk away untouched after what she’d done to his son. _

 

_ Jackie had been sobbing for hours and asking Peter why his mommy had eaten his baby brother and if she was going to do the same thing to him,it had taken Peter an hours to get his son to tell him why he was so afraid of his mother eating him and during that hour Meredith had been crying her own tears because her son was terrified of being anywhere near him; he’d screamed and clawed her when she’d reached for him where he was huddled inside the small closet in his bedroom, the screams had been the reason for Peter racing up the stairs and into Jackie’s bedroom. It had taken Peter hours to comfort his son enough to get the answer to why Jackie kept hiccupping and gasping out such strange sentences as, “Don’t let mommy eat me daddy, please” and “Why she do it, why she eat him?” and no matter what he’d told his son Jackie had continued crying about the stupid and insensitive things Laura had told him about not becoming a big brother, and that was what Jackie had wished so hard to become because he wanted to be a big brother like his cousin Derek was but Jackie didn’t want a little sister but a little brother because girls were too yucky.  _

 

_ `Where? ´ Jackie asked sounding no more suspicious than what a little boy really should be. _

 

_ `Alan just has to find him Jack,´ Talia said from where she was standing behind Alan Deaton, `the baby is just playing hide and go seek.´the answer seemed to be enough to wash away the suspicion from the little boy who went back to stare at the flat-screen that would hopefully show him his brother.  _

 

_ Talia yawned loudly as a few more minutes passed, minutes during which Jackie continued to stare at the screen swaying a little bit more as he was growing more and more tired with every passing second.  _

 

_ Peter remained standing at Meredith’s side attempting to comfort her as best he could, Jackie’s rejection had hit her hard, she’d been sobbing almost as desperately as Jackie had and still she’d ordered him to focus on their son and to ignore her. His son had been so afraid of his own mother that Peter had been forced to call Talia, he’d been forced to ask her to drive Meredith to the animal clinic simply because Jackie refused to even be in the same car with his mommy, and of course Talia’s anger that had been born from being forced out of bed at three in the morning vanished the second Peter revealed what Laura had done and now mother and daughter stood there in the dimply lit room wearing their nightgowns **.** _

 

_ Meredith was now exhausted and her blood pressure was through the roof, and Peter was worried for both her and the little life growing inside her a life they all already loved so greatly there was always a risk she would go in to labor too soon and if the baby was not a were then the result could be catastrophic; Jackie was too young to understand or to learn the meaning of death.  _

 

_ Peter did his best to comfort and sooth his mate, holding her pale slender hand in one of his own hands at times kissing the hand that held upon its finger the circle of gold that was a symbol of everlasting unity between the two of them.With his freehand Peter kept stroking his hand over his mates beautiful chestnut colored hair which had hours ago been made so prettily to fit their plans, but now like her make-up it was ruined, but to him she was still the most beautiful woman in the world. _

 

_ `And there he is.´ Alan said suddenly and everyone even Laura who’d kept her head down jerked her attention towards the image now shown on the screen that had held Jackie’s attention for nearly twenty minutes or so.  _

 

_ Peter felt his heart swell with love and pride at the sight of the little life that he and his son had been wishing for although Peter and his wolf had yearned for another child for nearly two yearsbut the fates had not granted him his wish until his own son began to make similar wishes to his own. _

 

_ The little life lay safely in its mother’s womb one of its little hands raised to its pouty looking lips. It seemed to Peter like the unborn child was sucking its tiny thumb the same way its big brother still did when comfortable or nervous, it was enough to cause Peter to smile down at the dome-like shape that still held stretch-marks from the time when Jackie had dwelled within the safety of Meredith’s body and without a thought Peter leaned down to nuzzle and kiss the shelter of his second-born son.  _

 

_ `Is the baby okay? ´ Jackie asked eyes glued to the image of his baby brother, and Peter couldn’t help but feel like the proudest father on earth. _

 

_ `You are amazing.´ Peter told his mate not even attempting to hide how in awe he was of Meredith’s ability to bare him the most wonderful son’s possible, `So absolutely amazing.´ Kissing the soft pouty lips of his mate Peter had no doubts that he would never fall-out of love with his mate or the life he shared with her and their children.  _

 

_ `Hear that thump-thumping sound Jack? ´ Talia asked as she slipped behind the little boy and picking him up, and Jack nodded deadly serious suddenly. _

 

_ `Well, that’s your baby brother’s heart and do you know what it’s telling us?´Jackie shook his little head and looked up at his Alpha and aunt, `Well it’s telling us that your baby brother is doing fine, he’s comfortable where he is. And he’s just waiting to grow big enough to come out and be with you.´ _

 

_ `Really?´ Jackie asked and Talia smiled softly down at the little boy who’d asked Father Christmas to give him a baby brother, and when it didn’t happen Jackie had asked her Peter if he’d been a bad boy that year because he didn’t get the Christmas gift he’d asked for.  _

 

_ `Oh yes, ´ Talia told the little boy who was all wide-eyed, `and that little heart of his is also telling us that your baby brother can’t wait to see you and be your little brother, ´ Jackie turned quickly to look at the image of the baby that wasn’t as of yet ready to face the world, `he knows you’ll protect him as much as your mother is doing at the moment.´  _

 

_ `She’s protecting him?´Talia just gave a little nod before continuing, `You see that’s why he’s inside your mommy’s belly, so that he’s safe because only mommies can keep their babies safe that way.´ _

 

_ Jackie turned to look at his mother and suddenly he was reaching out desperately towards her asking without the use of his words for her to hold him, and Meredith Hale wanted nothing more than to hold her little boy and tell him all was forgiven and forgotten.  _

 

The pleasant memory breaks before Peter would desire it too, it’s snatched from him by the car that suddenly came speeding through a red-light before swirling right in front of him, Peter slams the breaks just at the last second thanking his superior reflexes disposition for without it there would have been a terrible impact that could have caused a terrible dent in his attempts to reunite with his son. Peter curses loudly as he glares at the vehicle that doesn’t even halt or hesitate in its unreasonable speed, and there’s a part in him that wants to give chase and rip the throat out of the driver and anyone else in the car; but he settles with putting the license plate into his memory for a time when he could afford to waste time on something other than reuniting with the child he’d thought he’d lost. 

 

The violent stop may have spared Peter’s life and those within the silver colored Lexus but it caused for the pages of information and knowledge to slid right off of the seat and onto the floor, and the sight of the now dearly beloved pages has him driving to the side of the street parking his own car ungracefully and briefly in one of the faded parking spaces. 

 

His heart is beating like it’s trying to break free from his body after stopping for a minute as the image of his car crashing with a knowledge interacted with his foot slamming on the breaks, startled from the close call he takes a minute to calm his nerves because there’s no time for dying now when he had a reason to truly live. 

 

Peter sits there for a few minutes, maybe five or ten, breathing in and out knowing that if he continued driving right away would surely cause him to crash the car at some point during the remain drive, and so there he sits for a minute breathing in and breathing out until his hands stop shaking and he’s able to retract his claws.

 

He takes a minute before reaching down and picking up the scattered pages, and as he picks-up the false documents of rightful adoption he stills and just stares at the image of Jackie holding his baby brother after what had to be the fire that had ruined them all; Jackie’s hair is slightly singed and he looks so small and fearful, arms wrapped as tightly as he possibly around a little bundle which Peter recognized immediately as his second-born son, and the baby had his eyes wide-open and there was nothing about the way the baby was looking up at Jackie that suggested that the baby was dead. 

 

His hands are trembling as he reaches for the picture that was causing his head to spin, narrowing his world.

 

_ This, this can’t be,  _ Peter thinks as he picks up the picture realizing only then that there’s another set of pictures attached to the one that was confusing the hell out of him. 

 

Peter stares at the little face of the infant in Jackie’s little arms, trying to find some sign of death there but there’s none he can see;the little hand with the bandaged arm was wrapped around Jackie’s finger, and one of the little feet looks like it’s in mid-kick. The baby doesn’t look like he’s dead, but very much alive, and the idea has Peter feeling strangely emotional and trembling from head to toe. 

 

Peter stares at the images for a great while before taking a look at the two pictures attached to this stimulating image that pushes him to think of the unthinkable.

 

_ Can he be? Can he be alive? Can both of my son’s be alive? _

 

The second picture of the baby that had been nameless when the fire Kate Argent burned down the life Peter had loved to live. His baby was being held by none other than Sheriff Stilinski and standing next to him was a fairly beautiful woman who was smiling lovingly at the baby, one hand stroking the soft brown hair. The third picture was of a boy at the age of eight or maybe nine smiling at the camera, dark little moles stark against pale skin, and that child was without a doubt Stiles Stilinski. 

 

`Oh God, ´ Peter breathes out clawing at his chest because there’s something strange going on with his heart and he fears he might be the first werewolf to die of a heart attack. He stares at the pictures, and slowly the pain slipped away and something warm and hopeful settled inside his chest, that wonderful sensation grew until it brought tears of joy to his eyes that had many nights crying tears of sorrow and regret over those he'd lost. 

It seemed that the universe hadn’t stolen everything from Peter Hale , and it's enough to cause him to break down laughing with his entire heart in a way Peter hadn’t done since he’d had a wife and two beautiful children to keep his spirit alight. And he loves the feeling of joy blooming inside him. And as he laughs he thinks of the fact that the wonderful boy Stiles was his son, and Peter is proud of the fact that the bright boy is his son; he laughs with his entire heart at the notion that the kid who'd made him wish that his own son's would have grown-up to become as brilliant as Stiles Stilinski was and it was just such a  wonderful twist of fate to learn that Stiles Stilinski was his son. 

However the joy is short lived when he thinks back to earlier that evening, and the memory of the crying boy has Peter speeding once more towards the direction of Derek's loft. The need to be there for Jackie, to take care of Stiles was incredibly strong and it just felt so right. Knowing how much both of her boys need him is like a new rush of energy that will keep him going for days. 

 


	10. We’ll be alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson had never thought Peter would go as far as hugging him it was a strange sensation having the monster’s arms around him without being an attempt to cause him physical harm or outright kill him. It was frankly a disturbing thing to live through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had to cut Stiles out, but he will be in the next chapter I SWEAR.

 

He’s holding the files so very close. Never had a single piece of paper held so much value or worth to Peter Hale as the ones he’d gathered off of the floor of his nephew’s bleak home, these pictures and words had brought back something he’d thought he had lost until the day he and his wolf were ready to die. 

 

Racing up the stairs his spirit climbs, each step taking him one step closer to being reunited with his children, children he’d made to believe he’d killed. Knowing now that neither one of his children had been killed, that neither one of their bodieslay in the cold ground next to his mate was enough to mend some of the cracks that had been charred into his soul by the relentless flames that destroyed his pack and nearly his entire life. 

 

The last stretch of the journey feels like it goes on for an eternity. The distance between the stairs and the door that separate Peter from his kids feels cruel. But no matter the distance or the obstacle the werewolf feels a rising sense of joyful excitement as he hurries towards the children no longer lost. 

 

Peter doesn’t hesitate when it comes to opening the door that would feel heavy and reluctant to open to some human, but for him the door opens effortlessly. Peter slides the door open without knocking, his character does not yield to such things as knocking and so he simply enters the dwellings of the new Alpha-Hale. 

 

He doesn’t get far from the entrance before the familiar growl of his nephew reaches his ears and on any other day Peter would’ve responded to his nephews unwelcoming greeting with a light jibe directed at the young Alpha’s insecurities or on cruel days his guilt, but this wasn’t just any day this was the day Peter Hale learned his children were alive. 

 

`Peter.´ the Alpha growls while stepping out of the sorry excuse for a kitchen, and that thought of Derek’s kitchen had the father of two revaluating the state of his own kitchen. Peter knew he needed to do some serious grocery shopping for he truly had nothing of true nutritional value inside his apartment and it had nothing to do with an inability to cook for Peter could cook, and he could do it very well at least that was what his mate had said; the lack of any proper supplies was due to his deep loathing of cooking for just one person, and so instead Peter ate his meals in restaurants or ordered take-out. 

 

_ Perhaps they’d like to come with me to the store, then they could pick out exactly what they want,  _ Peter thought while also reminding himself to make sure Stiles started eating properly and healthily as his youngest child was born a human. 

 

Any thoughts about restocking the fridge vanished at the mere sight of his son who followed the Alpha with cautious steps, pausing when their eyes met. 

 

Peter’s silly little control cracked and broke like the eggs Jackie and Cora had been tossing out of one of the windows on the second floor of the Hale house a month before the fire, they’d dropped a dozen eggs before Talia had caught the two mischief makers, Talia had been so mad at the both of them and Peter had played along with it until he had Jackie home with him once there he’s praised his sons interest in gravity.

 

`You’re not wanted here Peter. Leave.´ Peter hears Derek’s words, but nothing the Alpha can say is going to drive Peter away from his sons. If Derek wants him gone he has to throw him out and even then Peter will return, Peter is not going to leave without his sons, Peter has spent too many years away from his children to just leave either one of them. 

 

`No.´ is all Peter says, his voice is firm and clear, it’s his way of telling his nephew that he will fight him if Derek even tries to force him out of the loft; he will fight tooth and nail to stay with his children. 

 

With the short word and the promise of a fight lingering in the air Peter turns his attention back to the young man his little Jackie had grown-up into while Peter was trapped inside his own broken and useless body. Jack, or like the Whittemore’s had named him Jackson, had gained a great deal of his good looks from Peter and his side of the family while Stiles was blessed with his mother’s beauty. 

 

Peter’s not entirely sure of how much his actions are that of his human side or of the wolf’s either way all Peter knows is that suddenly he can’t seem to move fast enough, he manages to slip past Derek fairly easily even though Derek tries to block his way with his bulk. 

 

Peter doesn’t think or hesitate as he pulls Jackson into a tight hug and the contact causes the last of his walls to break. He’s not aware that he’s crying until Peter feels tears stream down from his own eyes. He feels no shame over his tears, he doesn’t care that the Alpha sees him like this. Peter doesn’t feel the slightest self-conscious as he cries; he doesn’t worry about what his son might think of him then and there for the tears Peter is spilling are those of joy and there is nothing shameful about them. ****

 

Peter’s unbelievably happy and relieved to finally be able to hug his son, and he can’t help but think back to a much simpler time when Jackie had been the one to initiate such displays of affection, a time when Jackie would have hugged him back without a second thought. 

 

_ `Daddy! Daddy’s home! ´  _

 

_ The familiar and delightful voice of his little boy reaches Peter’s ears even before he’s excited the Volvo that screams of “Family man” instead of the person Peter had once been; the day they caught the first and rather grainy image of their little boy had been the day Peter Hale sold the car he’d been driving around in since graduating high school, he sold the much loved car that had suited his image so perfectly without hesitation for a safer model.  _

 

_ `Hi daddy!´ Jackie shouts while waving his little hands excitedly at him and Peter can’t help but smile at the sight and this cheerful sight is one which he is granted almost every day whenever he returned home from work or just a quick run to the store.  _

 

_ He’s unable to stop the way his lips quirk up into a smile and he gives his little boy a small wave of his own before getting out of the car. Jackie watches him for a few heartbeats his little hands pressed against the window creating more of those wonderful little hand-prints that were already decorating the window, but soon enough Jackie vanishes from the window and Peter knows exactly where he’ll find his son.  _

 

_ Peter knows that the moment he opens the front door of the little house he and Meredith had made into their home that little Jackie will come barreling at him with his little arms wide open. Unlocking the front-door which Meredith had finally learned to do, he hears Jackie shrieking delightfully, `Daddy’s home! ´ _

 

_ The werewolf has barely stepped through the door when tiny arms wrap themselves around his legs, and the little boy announces proudly, `Daddy you back.´ _

 

_ Peter hoists his son up and off of the floor simply so that they can hug each other properly while also scenting each other. He loves the feeling of Jackie hugging him for there is always a gentle force behind it and Peter kisses the chubby little cheeks that are flushed with excitement.  _

 

_ `Miss me? ´ Jackie asks like he always did, and Peter could as always answer this little question truthfully. _

 

_ `Yes. Very much.´  _

 

`I’ve missed you so much.´ he says without a lie on his liars tongue, pulling away just enough so that he can look at his beautiful son but still not moving away enough to break the embrace that he continues to hold even though Jackie hadn’t made a move to hug him back; Peter is certain it’s the shock that keeps Jackie’s arms tightly at his sides, that keeps him from embracing his father the way he’d once done. ****

 

`You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.´ Peter says while bringing the hand that had been cradling the back of Jackson’s head to his smooth fine cheek that had lost the adorable baby fat, there was very little left of his son he’d carried through the fire but this person in front of him was his son Jack who was absolutely precious to him. 

 

`Let me go.´ his son growls, Peter flinches at the harshness of it all but doesn’t let go because he can’t, he physically can’t because it’s been too long since he’d held his son. 

 

`Peter.´ Derek growls and moves towards him and his son, Peter feels his wolf shift beneath his skin alert and well aware that the Alpha was not one to trifle with but neither were they when it came to protecting what was theirs, `Let him go.´

 

`We’re going to be fine now Jackie.´ Peter says, eyes locked with the ones that were those of his own mother’s although these were hard and angry while Peter’s mother’s eyes had always been warm and loving, but Peter understood that Jackie was angry for life had treated him unjustly; his son was allowed his anger as much as Peter was. Peter wraps his arms right back around his son, breathing in a scent that had changed from the years when he’d been able to carry his son without a struggle, but somewhere deep down beneath all the unnecessary and unwanted scents was the familiar scent of his son, it was a gentle cocktail of Peter’s own scent and Meredith’s; it was an earthy scent mixed with a flowery sweetness, it was warm and welcoming like a spring day, it was full of youth. 

 

~*~

 

Jackson was admittedly taken aback by the sight of Peter Hale looking all disheveled and out of sorts. Jackson had never seen the older werewolf in such a state and it was just enough to cause Jackson to become rooted to the spot.And when the man whom Jackson considered as nothing more than a sperm-donor locked his eyes with his own, all Jackson could see in those usually so cold and calculating orbs was something edging along the lines of joy, but Jackson knows better than to trust anything to do with Peter because the older werewolf was a master manipulator.

 

The look Peter was directing towards him unnerved Jackson, there was something terribly wrong about the way Peter was looking at him; it was like the shine was shining out of Jackson’s ass. 

 

Suddenly the papers Peter had been holding are dropped like the older male had suddenly lost the ability to hold on to anything, and with the falling of the papers the tears began to flow from the eyes that had once glowed a horrible crimson, and those tearful eyes and strange actions were enough to root Jackson to the spot for Peter was truly a strange sight to behold.

 

When the man who was in Jackson’s eyes a true monster began to move and a part of Jackson wanted to move, however he wasn’t sure why there was a small part of him that wanted him to close the distance between them and that part confused him.Jackson could understand the need he felt to move further away from the older Hale because he knew that Peter could turn on him at any time,but this small desperate part of him was fighting against the instinctual part of fleeing; Jackson wanted to run to Stiles and make sure that their so-called father didn’t get his claws into either one of them, but he couldn’t move because that small disgusting part held him in place. 

 

As the distance between him and the man who’d nearly killed Jackson’s girlfriend as well as him, his anxiousness began to grow and when Peterwrapped his arms around him causing Jackson to go absolutely rigid and there’s a rush of emotions, most of those emotions were negative and would’ve had Jackson throwing a bloody fit; if he wasn’t as afraid of Peter then Jackson would’ve hit him and kicked him until he felt better or was just too tired to feel anything. But Jackson just can’t say or do anything, he can just stand there with his arms settled tightly at his sides and his hands clenched tightly.

 

Jackson’s not sure of what to do, being this close to the person who’d contributed in his and Stiles creation made Jackson’s blood run cold, he hates having the same person who nearly killed Lydia touching him in any shape or form; he would never forget the shape Lydia had been in after Peter had attacked her and she still carried the scars which made her confidence sway, it made him sick to know that he was related to this decrepit animal that had raped Lydia’s mind and used her like some puppet, this man made Jackson feel even more ashamed of himself.

 

Jackson was the offspring of a sick and twisted monster, and perhaps that was part of the reason why Jackson wasn’t as kind as Danny was. 

 

The beast holds him close, one of Peter’s hands is resting at the back of Jackson’s head fingers moving rubbing his scalp, the embrace is tight and to Jackson it was suffocating tight; he felt trapped and it didn’t matter that he could feel tears slowly soaking through his shirt, all Jackson knew the tears could be false. 

 

Jackson didn’t trust Peter not to dig his claws into his flesh or for those murderous hands not twist and break his neck. 

 

`I’vemissed you so much.´ 

 

The words fall so effortlessly from the werewolf who’s pulled back just enough so that Jackson can see every line, every detail of Peter Hale’s face,Jackson doesn’t trust the words spoken to him. He simply can’t afford to trust anything that comes out of the monster deceitful mouth.

 

But regardless of his suspicions and hatred towards the older male who’s holding him like Jackson was something precious, the little desperate part inside of him wants nothing more than for him return the embrace. That horrible little part within him demands him to comfort Peter, to nuzzle and scent the older male but the ever growing anger and suspicion he feels towards Peter Hale keeps Jackson strong.

 

Jackson knows that can’t trust Peter. He can’t risk the safety of his little brother or Lydia by trusting Peter in any shape or form, someone as dark and twisted like Peter Hale didn’t change at the drop of a hat, someone who’d killed his own niece without hesitation couldn’t be trusted not to use or kill his own kids. 

 

There’s a sad little smile on the lips that so often moved to release lies or manipulative words, and it makes Jackson feel like punching the guy in the face.

 

`You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.´ the words are spoken so very softly causing Jackson to glance over at the Alpha, asking with just a single little look for some help with dealing with current situation while also asking what the hell was going on with Derek’s crooked uncle. The hand at the back of Jackson’s head moves slowly away from the back of Jackson’s head, running along the side of his face until it settled to cupping his cheek; the touch is gentle and almost loving, it’s enough to cause Jackson to close his eyes and lean into the touch but the moment is short lived as he realizes his mistake.

 

`Let me go.´ Jackson snarls, but the degenerate doesn’t let go, not even when the Alpha orders him too, if anything Peter appears to try and pull him in closer while a growl of warning rumbled through the firm chest of the older werewolf causing Jackson to grow even more tense; one swipe or a firm bite from this dark being and Jackson might be dead before his little brother ever learned to see him as anything other than Jackson Whittemore the abusive asshole. 

 

Jackson shook at the thought of dying at the hands of the monster that had bedded his and Stiles’ mother. He couldn’t help the tremble that ran through his body at the mere thought of leaving Stiles alone in the hands of their supposed father; no, they didn’t have a father, and frankly they didn’t need one because Jackson would figure out how to help and take care of Stiles without anyone’s help.

 

`We’re going to be fine now Jackie.´ Peter says and there’s a sickening feeling of a promise somewhere within those words that has Jackson’s hairs rising, but what makes his stomach churn is the good-damn ugly nickname the man who was in Jackson’s eyes a real monster.

 

`Screw you.´ Jackson snarls at the werewolf who honest to god looked shocked by the choice of words and perhaps the harshness of his voice, but even though Peter backs away from him just a smidge the werewolf doesn’t stop touching him both of those murderous hands were still touching him like the older Hale was afraid of letting him go. 

 

`Jackie. Son.´ the man begins to speak, but Jackson doesn’t want to hear it. 

 

`Stop calling me that.´ Jackson snaps while slapping away the hands that are so intent on continuing to touch him, and Jackson is just about to tell the werewolf to shove this idea of him being his son where the sun didn’t shine when Derek’s suddenly moving towards the direction of the spiral stairs; it’s only then that Jackson realizes that Stiles is awake and heading towards the stairs. 

 

Jackson’s heart nearly leaps right out of his throat as he notices Peter’s gaze move towards the stairs. 

 

****

 

 


	11. Home is Where I want to be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles wants to go home, he needs to go home before he’s in serious trouble but the problem is it seems he’s not allowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah here we go Stiles and Jackson as well as daddy Peter (although not much there). Sorry for the long wait. And sorry about all the angry Jackson. And I know there's nothing new of great here but this is all I came up with it seems.

 

He feels comfortable, and it’s a strange sort of comfortable that feels very unfamiliar to him.There’s a pleasant heaviness in his body that makes him feel more than willing to give into the want of just sinking deeper into the softness that has enveloped him, all he really wants to do is to continue to soak up the warmth that he’s being provided to keep his mind and body numb from the unpleasantness of reality.However there is something that just doesn’t feel right, there’s something nagging in the back of his mind telling him to not give into the heavenly sensation; and so Stiles begins to struggle his way out of the state that might be pleasant but simply isn’t real.

 

His eyelids felt heavy as he began to fight to unseal his eyes, but even as his eyes opened to view his surroundings it takes Stiles awhile before his eyes could properly focus on his unfamiliar surroundings. The first thing Stiles realizes is that he’s on an unfamiliar bed that’s bigger than his own, the second dawning of understanding follows close behind the first; the bedroom where the heavenly bed that’s cradling his body is scarcely furnished and it is a rather spacious space almost as big as the layout first floor of Stiles house, the ceiling his all high and mighty above him, the skylight is strangely daunting to him in its dark glory. 

 

It’s a slow process but eventually Stiles is able to piece everything together into that unpleasant jigsaw puzzle of realization.

 

Stiles knew he was in trouble.

 

The thought that his father probably thought that he’d called Jackson which Stiles would never do. Stiles hadn’t even willingly gone with Jackson but his dad probably thought he had. Stiles knew his dad had to be livid with him even if none of this was Stiles fault, it was all Jackson’s fault; Jackson’s sick sense of humor was going to get Stiles locked-up in the closet or worse.

 

_Dad’s going to kill me,_ Stiles thought his heart trying to beat its way out of his useless body, _he’s going to beat me to death and lock my body in the closet until the smell becomes unbearable._

 

Stiles knows he’s in some serious trouble and that he might actually die if he doesn’t get his ass home before his dad had to start looking for him. His dad had always punished him far more severely when Stiles tried to run or hide, his dad always told him not to run but to accept his punishment, with that thought in mind Stiles pushes the blanket covering him aside before struggling to sit up it’s not so much the pain that is none existing that bothers him it’s the way the welts on his back and there weren’t only welts on his back but also on the back of his thighs and a few on his bottom make themselves known; his skin feels tight and unpleasant where the belt had lashed at his skin.

 

Placing his feet on the floor he hisses slightly. Pushing his body off of the bed and up on its feet, has him close to tears because damn he feels like his body is broken beyond repair. It takes Stiles a minute and a few tentative steps before he realizes his feet are bare revealing the ugly purple bruises that cover the usually pale skin as well as the red patches that had born earlier that day when his dad had disliked the taste of his morning coffee and spilled it all over Stiles foot;and Stiles had emptied the rest of the pot on the other foot at his father’s behest and the promise of not having to deal with any other punishment that day if he did so, but like always he’d still been punished because he’d failed to get the A’s he was supposed to get to keep his dad happy and proud of him.

 

Stiles tries to fight the unjustifiable tears that start slipping from him as he thinks back to earlier that day when he’d sat on the kitchen counter, trembling from head to toe with both of his feet in the sink while holding the pot with the horrible dark liquid just one tilt away from spilling it all over his feet.

 

_`Do it son. Make it easier on me for once in your life.´_ his dad had said his hand had squeezed the back of Stiles while his breath tickled Stiles’ ear the one that was half-deaf after too many hits but no one knew about that little secret or the fact that Stiles sometimes would wet himself. It had been the words telling him to just once be good that had finally pushed Stiles to emptying the pot of coffee over his feet while shamelessly screaming and crying. But his dad had hugged him after that and kissed his temple and told him he’d been good and that had made the agony worth it, but the knowledge that someone had seen his shame in the shape of his feet made him feel incredibly humiliated.

 

_Stop your crying! Get a grip and get your ass home,_ Stiles tells himself while limping his way out of the room.

 

Stiles can hear voices the closer to the stairs he comes. He’s almost at the stairs when he hears Jackson voice snap in that awful familiar way that meant that the older teen would strikeout at someone most often Stiles it causes him to hasten his steps wanting to get out of there as fast as possible, wanting to get away from delusional-Jackson and back home.

 

He’s a few steps down the spiral stairs that when he catches sight of the Alpha that always pushed him up against the walls or knocked him about, his eyes are glowing red and Stiles knows he’s in trouble. The Alpha starts to climb the stairs and Stiles panics because Derek will hurt him, he always does and unlike his dad the Alpha does it because he hates him.

 

Stiles can see from where he’s standing Jackson and Peter, and dear God there’s a tension in the air that reminds Stiles of the one he’s felt more often than not when he’s walked through the front-door of his house, it makes him feel like he’s in danger and Stiles knows that _he is_ in danger.

 

There’s something very wrong about the way Peter looks at him, the wide eyes that looked like they’d been shedding tears gazed up at him like he Stiles Stilinski was the light at the end of some very dark and twisted tunnel, and it was a very disturbing look on the older werewolf.

 

_Then again, Peter is disturbing,_ Stiles thinks as he averts his gaze from the zombie-wolf.

 

`Stiles.´ and if Peter looked creepy then the way he said Stiles’ name truly was unnerving.It was just enough to startle Stiles into looking back up at the werewolf who during his short stint as an Alpha had offered Stiles the bite, of course Stiles had been clever enough to recognize it as a desperate act of a crazed Alpha to build a pack and more than likely in an attempt to gain some leverage when it came to Scott McCall.

 

There was something strange about the way Peter had spoken his name, it was enough to cause Stiles to feel like something special which was something strange and new; but Stiles knew that he couldn’t trust Peter the manipulative-inconsiderate-bastard.

 

`Stiles? What are you doing?´ Jackson says while moving past Peter, turning his back to a known killer which made Stiles’ heart race because he truly feared that Peter would reach out and rip Jackass’ throat out; Stiles may hate Jackson but it didn’t mean that Stiles wanted to see Jackson’s blood all over the floor.

 

`Get back upstairs Stiles.´ Jackson ordered, and it reminded Stiles of his father and instinctively he made a move to obey but halts almost immediately when he realizes what he’s about to do.

 

`Go upstairs, now.´ Jackson grits out while reaching out his hand towards the former-Alpha that has started to move towards Stiles and the stairs, intense eyes locked on Stiles with this strange gaze that had the human feeling like he was being seen for the first-time and Stiles honestly wasn’t sure he liked it.

 

`Stiles.´ Peter says a smile that seemed so very real, a smile that reached the eyes that seemed alight with something unfamiliar, but before Peter can pass by Jackson the younger male who’d dragged Stiles out of his own home pushed him back while roaring out a sharp and angry, “NO!” The ferocity, the rage behind causes Stiles to jump and then his as his body suddenly starts to remind him of all the damage done to it with a slowly growing throbbing pain.

 

With Jackson’s hand against Peter’s chest a sound that is suspiciously a lot like a whine escapes from the older male who is suddenly looking at Stiles like he’s trying to figure out what’s wrong.

 

`You shouldn’t be up.´ the Alpha says while ascending a few steps, ` let’s get you back upstairs.´ Derek doesn’t look all that dangerous, he almost looks like he actually cares for Stiles’ well-being but Stiles can’t trust what he sees he’s learned that long ago if anything this change in the Alpha frightens him.

 

`Go upstairs Stiles.´ Jackson says while Stiles’ eyes drift about the room once more, it’s clear that Jackson’s temper is rising and Stiles knows he needs to get out before he gets to feel the wrath of Jackson on his skin.

 

`Now Stiles.´ Jackson growls and there is a small part of Stiles that wants to obey him but Stiles knows how bad it will be if he doesn’t get his ass home immediately.  He has to return home before he truly angered his father.

 

Stiles can see the exit, he can see his salvation and to his rather desperate mind this distance was not too great and so without really giving it much thought Stiles leaped into action.

 

Derek’s slow and strangely cautious steps spur the very skittish boy, and with Stiles desperate need to save his skin and return to his last remaining parent clouds an otherwise bright mind causing Stiles to do such a foolish and dangerous thing as leaping off of the stairs. Even when his body had been in supreme health Stiles Stilinski had lacked a graceful and unwavering balance, and so Stiles overwhelming desire to escape was doomed from the start.

 

Stiles simply failed to bring the lower-half of his body with the upper one, knocking his knee against the metal that had attempted to keep him on the stairs and even managing to get his foot caught be it for a very brief passing before falling to the hard ground in an ungraceful heap, the impact causes the air to escape Stiles body.

 

`Stiles!´ several voices yell as the boy throws his battered body to the mercy of gravity, several more shouts of that nature follow while his consciousness wavers, and those stubborn voices continue even when his body was manhandled with a foreign gentleness.

 

Slowly as Stiles’ eyes begin to focus and the dark spots start to vanished Stiles found himself looking up at Derek and Jackson both of them where hovering over him with worried expressions on their faces; it takes a minute for his brain to catch-up with everything to tell him his head is cradled by Derek Hale, Stiles also knows he should be suffering from some sort of pain but all he feels is comfortably numb, and he almost smiles thankfully up at the Alpha.

 

`Stiles, Stiles how many fingers am I holding up? ´ Jackson asks voice frantic in an unfamiliar sort of way while raising his hand showing off what Stiles thinks is three fingers and he says as much, the answer earns him a strangely genuine smile from Whittemore who bends down just enough to rest his forehead against Stiles and breaths exhales the words that are as confusing as hell to Stiles, `Please stop getting hurt Stiles, please.´

 

There was something strangely earnest about the way Jackson speaks and it causes Stiles to just stare up at him, he wants to ask who the this person talking to him was because it couldn’t be _Jackson Whittemore the Jackass King_ but before Stiles is able say anything there’s a loud angry growl that startles him into silence, it also makes him aware that someone is touching his feet, and Stiles tries to pull them away from Peter’s touch. Jackson turns to glare at Peter and it’s only now that Stiles realizes Peter is also there and that the older werewolf has his feet in his lap.

 

`Who did this? ´ the question comes out as a growl while Peter’s hands tighten their hold of Stiles disgustingly shameful feet. Stiles can feel a familiar fear rise within his chest it’s the one that always made an appearance when it came to psycho-wolf.

 

`Who the hell hurt you like this?´ Peter asked eyes glowing murderously blue and voice tight and low with anger, and Stiles tries to move further away from the werewolf that had tried to kill him and Scott, and nearly killed Lydia.

 

`The Sheriff.´ is all Jackson says with an unnecessary harshness that would have caused a less upset Stiles Stilinski to say something in an attempt to defend his father’s good name. But Stiles isn’t exactly in control of anything at that moment, and the very mention of his father reminds Stiles of what he’s supposed to be doing and so he starts to struggle in an attempt to get away from all of the strangeness that was going on. He pushes his own body into action as the need to return home so he could have a chance to face is punishment before it became something unbearable.

 

The information of who’d been behind the damage done to Stiles’ feet causes Peter to snap out a loud and angry, `WHAT?!´

 

 `LET ME GO.´ Stiles screamed like his life depended on being set free and maybe it did because Stiles wasn’t sure he could handle another round with his dad’s belt or gods forbid papa-Stilinski’s cane.

 

`No. Stiles.´ Jackson shouts while reaching for Stiles’ flailing arms and clawing fingers, ` Stop it. Stiles, stop.´

 

But Stiles can’t stop because he has to leave. He has to get back home before Jackson’s stupid game gets him killed.

 

`Stiles. You need to calm down.´ Derek says while Stiles slides up into a sitting position and almost knocks the Alpha in his handsome face with his sharp little elbow, but the werewolf’s superior reflexes’ saves Derek’s nose and possibly lip because Stiles is trying to push himself up onto his feet.

 

`LET ME GO! ´ Stiles shrieks while Derek skillfully traps his arms and body with his own, shushing him like he was some little child in need of comfort.

 

`PLEASE! I need to go. I need to go home.´ Stiles gasps as the panic grows inside him and his imagination grows wild with familiar punishments and some his father had threatened to do to him if he ever did something truly piss his father off.

 

`You are NOT going back to _him_!´ Peter barks and the prospect of never being allowed to go home has Stiles sobbing because all he wants is to go home, he wants to see his dad to tell him he didn’t want to go with Jackson that Jackson forced him to leave. He has to get home before his dad becomes unwilling to hear him out or to allow Stiles to chews his punishment.  

 

`EVER!´ Peter yells which doesn’t calm Stiles down the slightest if anything it spurs him on, he continues to plead for Derek and Jackson to just let him go but both of them refuse.

 

`Please, let me go home.´ Stiles cries eyes locked with Jackson’s, pleading for the jock to just show him some mercy for once in his life.

 

`Stiles. No.´ Derek barks gentleness gone and the finality of it all does not sit well with Stiles who barely hears Derek’s uncle say with such an unwavering certainty that Stiles knew he could not argue a victory for himself when it came to Peter Hale, `You are _never_ going back there ever again.´

 

`Please, Jackson please,´ Stiles sobs trying to pull at heartstrings he’s not even sure Jackson has, `I’ve got to go.´

 

`No.´ Jackson says sharply while reaching out to frame Stiles’ face with his hands, he cradles the tearstained cheeks with a firmness that doesn’t exactly hurt Stiles but that do make him feel even more trapped than before.

 

`He is not going back there!´ Peter snarls and Derek grunts in agreement, and Stiles feels like he’s being squeezed to death by not only Derek’s arms but also some strange force that is squeezing at his hart and putting unnecessary pressure against his lunges making it impossible to breathe.

 

`Stiles, you can’t, you can’t go back.´ Jackson says with that same unyielding finality that both Hale’s shared, and if Stiles hadn’t been so distraught and slipping into yet another panic then he might have seen the concern and sorrow in the eyes of one Jackson Whittemore but Stiles can’t see anything other than Jackson being one of the many obstacles between him and his father, between him and the last remaining parent and family he has left; the thought of not having anyone was beyond terrifying for one Stiles Stilinski,  his dad was all he had especially since Scott was now always with Isaac or Allison, Stiles only had his dad.

 

`Please.´ Stiles wailed with everything he had in him before beginning to buck far more fiercely in the Alpha’s hold and kicking with his legs with a new found strength that wouldn’t carry him far even if he somehow did escape the prison he was held in, his voice was raw and angry as he screamed words in the shape of demands of release; hisscreams are frantic and crazed to the point that he becomes deaf to the advised demands for him to calm down made by the two remaining Hale’s and he can’t heart the way the Alpha pleads for him to focus on his breathing but all of it falls upon deaf ears as does the way Jackson continues to tell Stiles the very thing he doesn’t want to hear.All Stiles hears is the frantic, unstable beats of his always so skittish heart, the rushing of his blood as well as the almost inhuman cries for freedom that escape him, and between all of that he hears his own gasps for air, but there’s never enough oxygen to satisfy the pressing need his body suddenly has for air.

 

As his vision begins to fail and a unpleasant dizziness turns into something more heavy and dangerous, Stiles screams for his dad even though he knows his father isn’t there to save him, and although he hears a voice just before the darkness swallows him whole and silences everything Stiles hears someone answer his scream with, `I’m here son. I’m here baby boy. I’m not going anywhere.´

 

**~*~**

 

He wants to kill, he wants to destroy. He wants the entire world to feel his rage and the agonizing grief behind it.He wants to render the cause of those disturbing blemishes that cover the pale skin of his son into a heap of broken bones and torn skin, he wants to rip and tear the hands right off of the degenerate that had given life to those horrible bruises that riddled his little boy’s beautiful skin. Peter wants to taste the now doomed man’s blood in his mouth and hear his screams as he ties the worthless bastard’s  intestines’ into bloody bows. He wants to feel the crunch of bones in the grasp of his hands, he desires to feel his fangs sink deep into the flesh that would yield to his power with ease, he wants to paint his hands and claws crimson with the blood of the man who’d abused not only Peter’s son but the title of father a title that Peter had desired to honor with an air of excellence.Peter craves to see the light in Sheriff Stilinski’s eyes dim until the eyes became empty and devoid of life.

 

But there was something far more important to deal with than Peter’s need to spill the blood of the man who should’ve protected and cared for his son considering how the bastard had stolen him from Peter as well as Jackie,the Sheriff should’ve honored the role he’d claimed from Peter without consent and not abuse it; there was nothing in this world that could justify any one of the disgusting deeds the man had done to the child that been created with pure love and devotion, a child that had been wanted so greatly by Meredith and Peter as well as little Jackie. Peter needs to help his baby boy who’d haunted his dreams for years, who’s newborn delicate bones he’d heard break beneath the weight of his own body that had been designed to protect his children not to destroy them, that haunting sound of cracking and snapping bones had haunted even the waking hours of Peter’s life; but his little baby bow wasn’t dead but alive, his son had grown-up into a fine kid with a brilliant mind and a loyal heart. His baby had become something wonderful and Peter would make sure that his little boy would no longer have to deal with filth like Sheriff Stilinski.

 

Peter _wants_ revenge,he craves retribution,but he _needs_ to ignore his own desires because he needs to focus on taking care of the children he and Meredith had created;he owes Meredith and both their sons that much considering he’d left them to defend themselves against the world that was not known for its kindness without knowing safety and unconditional love which only Peter could’ve provide them with.

 

Peter wants to punish everyone who’d stolen his children from him he wants to ruin everyone who’d kept him from his kids.There’s a powerful want to break and destroy all who’d been part of the death and theft of his family or to at least make them all suffer as he’d done for years and years; years full of nightmares and phantom sounds of little bones breaking and little cries for daddy to safe and stop the pain.

 

But unlike the Peter Hale he’d become while his body knitted itself back together again while alone in a room that reeked of misery and strangers the less corrupt version of Peter Hale who’d found happiness in changing diapers and reading goodnight stories understands that the darker needs are no-longer a priority in his life, the better and healthier Peter understand that he needs to stay with his son it is this Peter that dims the lust for blood that the one born from fire desires.

 

And having to lay witness to the way his little boy becomes more and more unraveled collapsing into the horrid pit of panic while his first-born tries to comfort his younger brother who continued to refused to accept or understand that he can’t return to the man who’d made an oath to serve and protect but who’d done neither when it came to Peter’s little boy.

 

Peter feels useless. He is useless. And Peter hates it.

 

He _is_ the father _He_ should’ve been able to protect, help and care for his kids. Peterhad promised both his son’s the first time he’d held them in his strong and protective arms that he’d keep them safe, that they would be loved and cared for always, and none of it had held true when it came to his youngest son.

 

When Stiles begins to scream for his father Peter reacts immediately and without thought, trying to pull his son from the depths of a panic attack but he’s unfamiliar with them or what to do when such a horrible infliction washes over his son, and so all he does as his son cries out, `Dad, daddy, ´ is to try and convince his son that he was there and that he would not go anywhere, and by the gods he wouldn’t he would keep to his word.

 

There was something absolutely frightening in the way Stiles eyes were wide with fear a fear which Peter could not tame or banish, there was something positively unnatural about the way those beautiful bright orbs of cleverness and brilliance were now completely blind to him and everything else. And when Stiles’ frantic unseeing eyes rolled until there was only the whites there, and when his scrawny little body fell slack the amount of fear that struck Peter was similar to the one he’d felt when he’d thought the hunters would kill off his mate and children right before his very eyes, the fear he’d felt as he’d fought to escape the blaze that captured and consumed his family and pack was similar to the one that now gripped at his heart.Without the continuing heartbeat which Peter could hear effortlessly,although the pace of the young heart was anything but comforting with its beat as unsteady as it was,Peter would’ve possibly lost his sanity once more even with Jackie still around; there was no denying that his second-born son, Stiles, had become dear to him and if Peter was ever made to be truthful if he ever was forced to be completely honest he might confess that of the two boys Stiles was his favorite now.

 

Peter lays his hand down on the chest that shelters the young heart of his little boy, Peter can’t deny that his own heart trembles as he begins to recall the very first time he’d felt the vibrant little heart of his baby boy beating against the palm of his hand; back then his hand had been large enough to cover the entire chest of his newborn son, and way back then his hands hadn’t been stained with the blood of his niece and nephew.

 

It was difficult to say the least for Peter to maintain his fragile control especially after his son loses consciousness,but Peter remains just calm enough to possess the will to keep his claws away as he gently touched the boy who was far too young to walk through the cruel halls of a high school. Peter wasn’t however able to truly grant his young son comfort in the form of gentle touches for his eldest suddenly pushes him away from the child Peter had been denied to teach how to ride a bike or how to read or write whatever name his family would’ve settled on.

 

`Don’t you dare touch him.´ Jackie snaps at him, his beautiful eyes ablaze with pure and unforgiving anger and Peter knows this trait in Jackie was passed down from him and not Meredith.

 

The hurtful accusation of being someone entirely untrustworthy, even though Peter was well-aware that if the births of these two young males that have gone through life under the names of Stiles Stilinski and Jackson Whittemore he would’ve undoubtedly proven himself untrustworthy at some point, but he’s no longer just Peter Hale but a father once more and that changes everything;the chase for power is over for him now for what Peter now needs is his nephew and the pack Derek had created, Peter and his children need the protection of the young Alpha as well as the little pack created in desperate haste, of course Peter could continue to try and gain the power of the Alpha but being an Alpha would limit his position as a father to his boys.

 

Peter owes his mate and their children his time, his focus, his love and attention. He can’t spend a minute chasing power or fighting to maintain it when he’d already lost too much of the time he should’ve spent with his kids.

 

`Jackie, please,´ Peter tries to reason with his son hands reaching out towards the boy who’d always been fond of being held, cuddled, and who’d sigh with happiness and satisfaction when Meredith or Peter had rubbed his scalp or petted his head or cheek. But this older Jackie slaps his hands away and spits out angrily, `Stop calling me that.´

 

Peter is about to try and sooth his son who’s equally as upset as he is with their situation, this was all so very unfair on them all, but when Derek stands with Stiles’ unconscious body still in his arms Peter jumps up and reaches out towards his little boy;and Stiles does look so very little in the arms of the Alpha his head resting against the broad shoulder, and all Peter wants is to be the one carrying the boy who’d been the only person in all of Beacon Hill’s Peter Hale had begun to care for even before learning that the curious and bright boy was his own flesh and blood.

 

`What – what are you doing?´ Peter asks reaching out towards his son, ready and willing to take Stiles into his own arms but Derek only moves further away from him eyes burning red, `Give him to me. Derek, give me my son.´ Peter needs to take his son home, needs to get both of his boys into his car and home.

 

`No.´Derek’s response is short and unyielding, sharp even, and Peter is taken aback by it but only a little before he moves towards the Alpha who’s making his way towards the stairs forcing himself between Derek and thestairs.

 

`He’s my son.´ Peter protests and makes another attempt to gather his little boy into his own arms but he’s pushed back and away by Jackie who looks ready to rearrange Peter’s teeth as well as the bone structure of his face.

 

`Fuck that.´ Jackson growls placing himself between Peter and Derek, `You! You were our dad once, once! But not anymore.´

 

Jackie’s words cut Peter deeper than any blade ever had or could.For his son do deny him was just enough to cause Peter’s knees to almost buckle, it was almost enough to cause his heart to stop and for him to drop dead right then and there at the feet of his first-born but seeing his second-born the one he knew would do great things in his life and so he did not die. He could not die, not now.

 

`Jackie,´ his voice is weak and full of emotions but there’s no shame in it, not when it’s born from the ache he feels for being a failure as a father,it sure as hell didn’t matter that Peter hadn’t been in any shape to be a father to his two boys after the fire that had nearly killed off every single member of his family, it didn’t matter if Peter hadn’t been in any shape to be a proper father to both of his sons due to his injuries which he’d sustained while saving his two boys; Jackie’s anger was righteous due to his failure to be there for his son, and Peter would not hold Jackie’s anger against him, how could he? But it still hurt to hear his son say he wasn’t a father.

 

`I’m still your daddy, ´ and Peter can’t stop himself from reaching out to touch, stroke the smooth skin of Jackie’s cheek, a cheek that had once been full and soft and like Peter’s own mother had called pinchable but Jackie slaps his hand away and growls out an angry no which is followed by words that do nothing but fuel the hurt inside of him.

 

`You are not. And we don’t need you.´ Peter had never imagined that Jackie would refuse to even be touched by him, by the hands that had once been there to dry Jackie’s tears and rubbed his back when he couldn’t sleep, Jackie hisses slapping away the hand that had attempted to touch him it felt strange to know that his little boy was refusingbeing touched by the same hands that had dried his tears and rubbed his back when he couldn’t sleep. It hurt to be rejected even like this and he couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d fed Jackie his mother’s delicious roasted chicken or Meredith’s mud-cake without a work or spoon but with his bare hands and fingers.

 

_`God I swear you are going to turn him into a caveman,´ Meredith groaned as she walked into the living-room where Peter sat with Jackie on his lap feeding him the delicious mud-cake she’d made._

 

_`Cavewolf my darling mate.´ Peter corrected his beautiful mate who just laughed at him while he continued feeding little pieces of care to his son with only the use of his fingers, and each piece had his son smiling just a smidge bigger even if his little hands and the area around his mouth was a mess with chocolate goodness._

 

_`Whatever husband of mine. Don’t complain when we take him to one of your fancy restaurants and he can’t tell the difference between a spoon and a fork.´ Meredith laughed while grabbing one of her many cameras and taking a picture of the two of the sticky-chocolate-monsters._

 

Peter can’t stop the whine that escapes him as he recalls that wonderful feeling of feeding his son and taking care of him like the precious little life he’d been for Peter and Meredith and the pack and family into which he’d been born into, Peter whimpers because he can’t see that darling child which had so often clung to him because all the little boy wanted was closeness and affection.Peter wants to weep for all he sees at the moment is not that sweet little boy who’d held on so tightly to Peter’s hand when he’d learned to walk, all he now sees is an angry young man who refuses to accept his love and all it could give both of them as well as the unconscious boy in their Alpha’s arms.

 

`Just leave. Leave us alone. We don’t need you.´ Jackie says and Peter can’t handle hearing such cruel words without pleading for his son to stop saying such mean and spiteful things.

 

`Don’t say that.´ Peter pleads but his son won’t allow him to finishing the string of words he’d been willing to speak out because Jackie’s cruelty continues on,with the following words, `My dad, ´ Peter’s heart swells with hope but the heart as well as the hope drops to the floor as soon as Jackie continues on to say, `will help, I can make my dad and mom take Stiles in.´

 

`No.´ Peter says sharply, he would not allow it, he would die before allow the Whittemore’s to steal yet another one of his children,he grabs Jackie by the arm and without thinking what he’s doing or frankly how he sounds as he speaks, ´No. You are not going back there, you and Stiles are coming home with me.´ to everyone in the room with ears he sounds more and more like the monster he’d been not too long ago, the monster he still was deep down.

 

`Are you fucking off your meds?!´ Jackie snaps and Peter snorts out a short reply of, `No. I have no meds.´

 

`Peter, get out.´ Derek growls while beginning to climb the stairs, and as the Alpha’s foot touches the first step Peter feels dread clasp at his heart at the realization that his nephew was trying to separate him from his children, trying to keep his babies from him, and that fear is what causes him to push Jackie aside and rushes towards his nephew and son hands desperately reaching for his son.

 

Peter slips passed Derek and starts to try and pull his baby boy from the arms of the Alpha because there is a part of him that knew that having Stiles would bring him Jackie too, because his son loves his young brother and would do anything to stay with his long lost baby brother. Stiles, Stiles was the key to their family and Peter knew it.

 

`Derek, give him to me!´ Peter demands while trying to remove his son from the arms of the Alpha Peter would accept full-heartedly only if he had his children at his side, Peter would never again attempt to take the Alpha power from Derek if he had his kids. His heart is racing like it had done the night when he’d fought to save his babies and his mate only to fail Meredith and almost his kids too, his heart was beating like that of a frightened rabbit because he’s afraid that they’ll drop Stiles while they bickered for him; his son was human, fragile, breakable and being dropped could cause him irreparable damage. However before Peter can so much as to pull the boy even an inch closer to him he’s being pulled down the stairs by his own son, he falls and the air escapes his lunges and he feels his head hit something hard enough to cause a blackness to sweep in.

 

`No.´ is all he gets out or at least tries but he’s not sure if coherent enough to get a single word out without it being too slurred to recognize or understand, and he continues to try and reach out for what belongs to him but his arms feel heavy and unresponsive and darkness comes too soon.

 

 


	12. Dragging You Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson couldn’t deny that he was more than a little bit irritated by the fact that Derek had always preferred Isaac over his own family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is Jackson’s POV for the most part, so if you hate reading about Jackson then you really should question why you are here because there’s a lot of Jackson in this story. Now we get to see a little bit of what’s going on is Jackson’s head, but only a little. There’s Isaac in here too and Derek. Oh and there’s a smidge of little Jackie Hale as a big brother.

 

Jackson hadn’t expected Peter to fall the way the older man did.To see someone fall the way the werewolf did because of _him_ was a little bit of a shock to Jackson who hadn’t imagined that Peter would go down that easily, the horrid thud and crack that came from the head as it struck the floor seemed to radiate through his own body,and as the blood began to pool around the head of the man who was on paper both his and Stiles’ biological father Jackson steps back feeling a fraction of worry and guilt for what had happened which was odd because ever since he’d learned about Peter Hale’s part in nearly losing Lydia his hatred towards the beast had grown ten folds.

 

`No.´ says the werewolf who’d left deep and horrible scars on Lydia’s body, scars she tried to hide and forbid Jackson from seeing or touching even if none of them had any power to make him see her as anything but perfect, Jackson watched in silent shock as Peter reaches with some difficulty towards Derek who was standing unmoving and wide-eyed on the stairs still holding the unconscious form of Jackson’s battered little brother.As the hand drops and Peter’s eyes roll to the back of his head before closing Jackson feels a hint of panic ascend and he looks at the Alpha searching for some guidance or comfort which was a strange and unfamiliar reaction to Jackson, Derek looks torn between continuing upstairs or descending the stairs and dealing with the bloodied situation on the floor at the foot of the stairs, and Jackson is equally unsure of what to do.

 

`Is he dead? Did I kill him? ´ Jackson asks stepping further aside in order to give the grumbling Alpha some more room.

 

`No. He’s just unconscious - for now.´ Derek grumbles while walking over to the bed which reeks of the Alpha, and Jackson feels a smidge less anxious. Jackson moves just a little bit further from the unconscious body while watching Derek place Stiles on the bed which was placed in such a ridiculous place in the loft, the Alpha was seemed so very gentle with his little brother which continued to surprise Jackson who’d never seen a gentle side in the werewolf before this night.

 

`It takes a great deal more to killing a werewolf than a bump to the head,´ Derek says while tucking in Stiles making sure that the kids head rested well and comfortably on one of the pillows.

 

`Would a bullet through the brain do it?´ Jackson asks trying to shake of the concern he’d felt towards Peter out of his mind because it was an unwanted and an unwise emotion for him to feel, Peter was not a person who deserved his attention the only ones who did were Stiles and Lydia.  

 

`Sure, a bullet through the brain would kill most things.´ Derek says sounding a little bit annoyed like Jackson’s questions were a useless waste of air and words, like he was somehow above answering Jackson’s questions which wasn’t faire considering Jackson was new to this whole werewolf thing, `You want Peter dead that badly?´

 

The question isn’t a faire one and Jackson isn’t really sure if he could kill another person even if it was someone as sick and twisted as Peter Hale, but Jackson had no desire to appear weak before the Alpha, and so straightening his back and with a voice as unwavering as possible Jackson answered, `We’d be safer if he was dead.´

 

`Probably true.´Derek says while stepping away from Stiles and the bed on which he laid on eyes glancing over at the his unconscious body of Peter Hale, `But the question is Jackson, ´ there was something rather ominous about the way the Alpha spoke to him, eyes turning Alpha red as the drifted from the unconscious werewolf up to Jackson, `could you really kill your own father? ´

 

Jackson wanted to be able to say with an air of unwavering certainty that he could indeed put a bullet through Peter Hale’s skull with the same easiness Jackson had displayed when throwing a Molotov cocktail at the werewolf that unfortunately father both him and Stiles,but the truth was that there was a disturbing part of him that refused to even grant Jackson the thought of doing it without making him feel incredibly uneasy;and then there was the sickening fact that his baby brother had been the one who’d made those flammable items they’d tossed at the werewolf, it didn’t feel right to know that his little brother knew how to make Molotov cocktails but then again there were a lot of things about Stiles that didn’t feel right to Jackson now.

 

`Not so easy is it Jackson, killing a member of your family? ´Derek says while moving towards the unconscious form on the floor and Jackson is about to spit-out his reply of, “he’s not my family”but before Jackson is able to say anything really the loud-screeching sound of the door through which he and Stiles had entered not too long ago the sudden interruption was enough to startle both him and Derek.

 

In all honesty Jackson wasn’t too surprised to see Lahey walk into the loft because even he knew that the guy was living with Derek Hale who’d taken the teen under his care and protection, and if the idea of killing the oldest living Hale didn’t sit well with Jackson then something darker in him stirred at the knowledge Derek had taken in this person who wasn’t even family while leaving Jackson and Stiles who were blood had been treated with nothing but dislike, Derek had never treated either him or Stiles like they were worthy of any care or respect;Jackson’s anger was perhaps lacked any real rhyme or reason but it didn’t diminish the resentment Jackson felt towards Derek and even Lahey who walked into the loft with bloody hands and clothes, if Derek had cared for Stiles even a smidge as much as he did Lahey then Stiles wouldn’t lay there on the Alpha’s bed with swollen and bruised feet and a body covered in bruises.  

 

Jackson hated Lahey and Derek too, and he was fine with it because all he really needed was Stiles and Lydia, screw everyone else. The only reason he was there now was because he needed Stiles to be safe for as long as it took for him to get his parents – adopted parents – to agree to take in Stiles or to at least pay for an apartment where Jackson could stay with Stiles; the Whittemore’s owed them and Jackson would milk ever last drop from them if need be. And once he’d graduated High School they’d leave Beacon Hills and never look back.

 

`Isaac? ´ there was concern in Derek’s voice that flared a justifiable anger inside of Jackson who let out a growl as Lahey closed the heavy door with unnecessary force that caused too much noise. The slamming of the door as well as the screeching caused Stiles to whimper and whine in his sleep and Jackson moved towards his little brother to make sure he was alright placing a hand on the slightly clammy and warm forehead the contact seemed to settle Stiles down.

 

Lahey visibly jumps when the Alpha calls out to him, and although Jackson doesn’t care for Lahey the slightest bit he still glances over at Derek’s beta who looks like he’s unraveling right where he’s standing with bloodied hands and messy hair,Jackson might not be Derek’s beta and he might not have been under his training since he gained control of himself but Jackson could still smell the stench of lost rage and blooming anxiety neither which can hide the fact that Lahey is bloodied and something about the blood tells him it isn’t Lahey’s blood.

 

`Isaac? ´ Jackson can hear the worry in Derek’s voice which truly rubs him the wrong bloody way.

 

`I-I, ´ Isaac stutters eyes wide and frantic.

 

`Isaac, what happened? ´ Derek asks while moving towards the young male who begins to stare at his bloodied hands, flexing his fingers like he’s not sure why his hands were in such a mess, something about the smell coming off of Lahey causes Jackson to move in such a way that ensured that he could keep Lahey away from his brother if the werewolf lost it and decided to attack the only human in the room.

 

`I – I just, ´ Lahey mumbled before bolting towards the bathroom looking like he’s about to be sick, Derek doesn’t hesitate to follow his beta into the bathroom.

 

**~*~**

 

Seeing Isaac storm into the loft with bloodied hands and disheveled clothes and messy hair reeking of fear anger that had been lost a while ago, and dried blood, blood that wasn’t entirely Isaac’s but someone else’s someone human. The uneasiness of the realization that Isaac had hurt someone human had him chasing Isaac into the bathroom with the broken door. Derek needs to know what had happened so he could deal with the problems that might bloom from Isaac’s actions.

 

Derek finds his young beta washing his hands eyes wide and desperate as he scrubs his hands clean irritating the surprisingly sensitive skin until they were an angry shade of red, there was a fierce battle of emotions going within the younger male mirrored and exposed so clearly upon his almost sculptured face. It took a great deal for Derek stay calm before all of this, to keep his voice from rising.

 

`Whose blood is that? ´ Derek asks while trying to remain calm even when he fears that hunters are on their way to put an end to what remains of the Hale-pack and his family. The last thing Derek needs is for hunters coming after his pack while trying to deal with learning about his two younger cousins still being alive,he was so completely baffled by the knowledge that Jackson Whittemore was his cousin Jackie the same little kid who was so sweet and helpful had turned into the king of douchebags, and Stiles the hyperactive spastic kid with clothes too big for his body was his baby cousin who hadn’t even been given a name before their family burned to the ground;knowing that the two people he’d been less than interested in having in his pack were related to him by blood caused the Alpha to feel incompetent and guilty, and not only did the fact that he’d ignored the two bother him but the fact that he’d seen Stiles with bruises since day-bloody-one of their interaction and he’d done _nothing_. 

 

But what had been done was done and there was nothing Derek could do about the past now, all he could do was make sure Jackson and Stiles stayed safe from this day forward.

 

`The sheriff’s. ´ is all Isaac says voice a little bit on the side of a growl.

 

`What the Hell Isaac! ´ Derek snaps.

 

`Isaac what happened?´ Derek puts a little but more authority into his voice, forgetting for a minute or two that Stiles was in the next-room and in a great need of rest.

 

`The sheriff, ´ Isaac said voice still unnecessarily loud, ` he knows about werewolves.´

 

`Of course he does. After what you did.´ Derek barks back at Isaac which earns the both of them an angry snarl from Jackson telling the two of them to be quiet, and Derek does turn down the volume just a little bit just low enough so not to disturb Stiles who was hopefully still sleeping peacefully om his bed, `You exposed us.´

 

`NO! ´ Isaac snaps causing Derek to growl at him to lower his voice while Jackson hisses that he would soon be in there with them removing both of their vocal cords unless they stopped making so much noise, ****and Derek had a feeling his cousin would indeed fulfill his threat because Stiles was beginning to stir and whimper;little Jack Hale had always been very focused  and protective of his baby brother taking his role as big brother very seriously so much so that everyone in their family and pack had found it both endearing and hilarious,Laura had often teased Jackie about his behavior but then again the little-big-brother had even snapped his baby fangs at their Alpha when Derek’s mother had reached towards the sleeping newborn. ****

 

`He said, and I quote, ´ Isaac says after they are both sure Stiles had settled and was back to sleeping peacefully,`the Sheriff said, “Your one of _those_ monsters”, that’s what he said Derek.´ Isaac can’t stop his voice from rising a little as he continues with an air of desperation, `He said _one of_ _those_ monsters, like he’d known about werewolves for years.´

 

Isaac’s words cause Derek to grow tense there were only a handful of reasons why the Sheriff knew about werewolves and all of them made him nervous. But there was no doubt that this piece of information was important, but there’s a part of Derek that still needs to be sure it’s not just something caused by a glitch in Isaac’s hearing.

 

`Are – are you sure about this? ´ Derek asks voice barely above a whisper because if this was indeed true, if the sheriff knew about him and his kin then he feared there was more to Sheriff Stilinski that met the eye.

 

Isaac gave a sharp unwavering nod, eyes hard with resolve and certainty.

 

`Did he say anything else? ´ Derek asks and Isaac shakes his head immediately while telling him that the man had only begged for him to stop, they both hear Jackson grumble out, `You should’ve killed him Lahey, I would’ve helped you hide the body.´

 

`Jackson.´ Derek growls even though if Isaac had killed the sheriff he would’ve been there hiding the remnants of the abusive asshole, it earns him an angry huff but Jackson falls silent none the less, Derek turns his attention back to his beta who looks like he’s thinking back to his run-in with Sheriff Stilinski.

 

`He was also talking to someone, ´ Isaac says rather hesitantly, ` on the phone.´ Derek isn’t sure if there really is any value in this information but none the less he gives his ear to his beta that seems to convey the same sort of doubt Derek does.

 

`He was yelling at them, arguing, ´ Isaac says as they walk out of the bathroom finding Jackson sitting on the bed looking impossibly uncomfortable and useless, and Derek honestly felt the same when looking at both of his cousins.

 

`He said it wasn’t his fault.´

 

`What wasn’t? ´ Derek asks moving closer to the bed, his nose twitches as he catches something odd about Stiles’ scent, Isaac shrugs his shoulders.

 

`I don’t know. But he said it wasn’t his fault and then told the other person on the phone to take care of his own and he’d take care of his. ´ All eyes turned towards the unconscious form of Stiles Stilinski, Jackson reached out to hold the hand of the boy as if worried he could disappear right before his eyes. Derek understands Jackson’s fears for he too suffers from them.

 

`Anything else? ´ Derek asks, he’s growing far more convinced Sheriff Stilinski wasn’t all he seemed to be, he was beginning to think the man was as a big threat to him and the small remnants of his family as Kate Argent had been.

 

Isaac hesitates and fiddles with his soaked sleeve, a tell-tale sign that there was something more, something Isaac was worried about.

 

`Isaac? ´ Derek growled and Isaac snapped into attention.

 

`He said, and I quote, “I swear Stiles once I get my hands on you, you’ll need a fucking wheelchair to get out of the house” and I he meant it.´ immediately after hearing the voiced threat of sever bodily harm on Stiles both Jackson and Derek began to growl, but there was a third growl as well which draws their attention from each other as well as Stiles, their eyes landing on Peter Hale who was struggling back up onto his unsteady.

 

`He’s _never_ touching him ever again. ´ The oldest remaining Hale growls, eyes flashing blue and claws extending, there was nothing but the truth in those words.

 


	13. You are but children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 15 min has crawled from the wood works, and my mood is bleak at the moment since some people clearly don't get the fact that 15 min isn't a lot of time to write, and so now the rest of these fic's are going to be crap because I'm pretty much done with writing. 
> 
> Any ways so this one was asked By Sapphire-Seahorse-Shell who just wanted Peter to get kicked out of the loft and so this is what happened.

 

  
It is a struggle to rise from the unconscious state but as he hears the threat made towards his son the wolf in him pushes the darkness aside and forces them into the world that had betrayed them and their little offspring’s. The harsh world is spinning as Peter opens his eyes and growls out a promise he will die to keep, the ground beneath his feet feels anything but solid beneath him. A terrible ache is radiating through his entire skull, it’s blinding but Peter forces his body up until he stands on unsteady feet, the instinct to protect his kids is greater than the pain and unsteadiness the vicious pounding inside his head is causing. Peter would never again risk losing his kids by not at least trying to rise when his entire body demanded him to stay still, he would never again lay on the ground and let others do what they wished with his and Meredith’s little ones.

  
Peter would chew his own arm or leg of if they got trapped in a snare for the safety of his two babies.

  
Of course Peter knows as he stands legs wobbly and head feeling heavy and unbalanced that the hateful man that had abused his son wasn’t there to act out the threat he’d made, but the horrific images the words Lahey had repeated wouldn’t grant Peter the time needed recovery fully.

  
Peter sways where he stands at least he thinks he does and yet he takes a couple of steps towards where he sees is little boy resting on Derek’s bed, Peter’s drive to make sure Stiles is alright and comfortable but before he’s able to reach his son there’s an Alpha standing between him and his son.

  
`Move.´ Peter growls as low as possible so not to disturb Stiles rest, Peter maybe a selfish bastard most of the time but when it comes to his children he could not be as selfish as he wanted, he had to think about them and what was best for them even now when all he wanted to do was assert his rights to his little ones. Stiles needed his rest more than Peter needed to direct Derek’s behavior like he’d done when his nephew had been younger.

  
`No.´ is the only response Peter is given and it is one he would obviously ignore.

  
Peter makes a move to pass his nephew but he’s suddenly blocked once more and this time Derek goes as far as to flash his alpha red eyes at him, which would be fine if Peter had the slightest bit of respect towards Derek’s Alpha statues.

  
`Move.´ Peter repeats voice a little bit louder without it being loud enough to disturb Stiles, ` He’s my son Derek. He needs me.´ Peter’s claws are itching to come out and play, but Peter knows he’s in no shape to fight an Alpha.

  
`He doesn’t need you.´ Jackie says with an air of such certainty that it takes Peter back to a day far too many years ago when a much younger version of Jackie had informed his cousins that he would always protect his little brother, Peter can’t remember what had prompted such a reaction in his son but he does remember how he’d scooped Jackie up into his arms and praised him for his loyalty and kissed away the angry frown that had been on his beautiful face, Peter could also remember how Talia their Alpha had proceeded to praise Jackie too which had made his son blush so sweetly. Still although Peter is pleased that Jackie was eager and willing to bet there for his brother he did not entirely appreciate the fact that Jackie was attempting to outrank him and push him to the sidelines.

  
Peter was the parent in all of this and Jackie was the child.

  
`He’s got me.´ Jackie continues to say as he stands close to the bed hiding the slack and open mouthed face of their beloved little Stiles.

  
`Don’t be ridiculous son, you are no more than a child yourself.´ Peter says softly, he’s not pleased with the way Jackie has been behaving thus far when it comes to Peter’s interaction with either him or Stiles, but even if Jackie is getting closer to pushing Peter’s less than pleasant buttons he keeps the anger from his voice as makes an attempt to reason with his eldest. Now while Jackie may not be a toddler who needs him to change his diapers or teach him how to brush his own teeth or to growl like the big wolves, Jackie was still not an adult.

  
`He’s got me. They’ve got me.´ Derek says which causes Jackie to snort which shows how much Jackie truly feels about Derek’s words, and that little snort is alone enough to cause Derek to growl a little.

  
`I’m their father.´ Peter points out voice trying hard not to lose the fragile control he had at the moment, and it was hard not get further annoyed as Jackie says from beside the bed, `We don’t need a father like you.´

  
Ignoring Jackie’s childish response Peter continues to try and reason with the young Alpha, `They need me Derek, they need me and not some emotionally constipated boy.´ and with that Peter makes another attempt to pass his nephew and reach his little boy, a boy he didn’t get nearly as much time with as he’d had with Jackie, but Peter doesn’t get far not even a step or half of one as Derek grabs him by the throat and forces him several steps back.

  
`Don’t. Test. Me. Peter.´ Derek snarls his hand tightening painfully around Peter’s throat making it difficult for the older male to breathe, and Peter is reduced to clawing at Derek’s arm in an attempt to get enough air into his lunges to stay conscious as well as to escape and reach his son.

  
There are dark spots appearing around Peter’s vision and his head feels like it’s about to explode, he feels like his eyes are about to pop out of his head.

  
`Jesus Derek, ´ someone says but Peter’s brain isn’t firing properly at the moment, `don’t kill him, like right here.´

  
`I’m not going to kill him.´ Derek responds roughly before dropping Peter like a sack of potatoes before grabbing Peter by the collar of his jacket, dragging him towards the exit.

  
`What are you doing?´ the same voice asks while Peter continues to gasp for air, legs kicking one hand around his bruised neck and the other just moving about uselessly as he fought to get free or up or whatever.

  
`Just throwing out the trash.´ Derek says and that’s not what Peter wants to hear, and he makes an attempt to voice his protests but it seems his nephew had squeezed his throat a little bit too tightly. Derek literarily drags him out of the loft and down one flight of stairs to the next until the cold air of the late evening turning night washes over Peter who’s now dizzy enough to turn onto all fours before he’s being sick barely missing Derek’s fairly nice shoes.

  
`Just stay away Peter, ´ Derek hisses down at him, `just go home and stay away.´

  
`They’re my sons.´ Peter croaks as his stomach settles and the world slows down to an easy turning instead of the carnival ride from hell that had been going on as Peter painted the sidewalk.

  
`Wrong. They were good-Peter’s kids, ´ Derek says and although he’d probably hadn’t meant for it to feel like a rusty knife cutting through Peter’s heart it does, as does the following words, `I owe it to Meredith to make sure this.´ Derek glares down at Peter who has managed to sit-up on his knees now, `Peter doesn’t kill her sons.´ and with that Derek makes his way back into the building.

  
`This, ´ Peter swears as he struggles back up onto his feet, `isn’t over Derek! You can’t keep me away from my kids. You hear me! ´

  
Walking back to his car Peter swore that next-time he did this he would do so with Stiles and Jackie, they would come home with him soon no matter what Derek said.  Peter wouldn’t lose his boys a second-time not even to a member of their now shrunken family. 


	14. Did You Hear Our Screams?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little update, a tiny update to this tale of Peter Hale and his two babies Jackie and Stiles. This chapter (which I just realized has cut hours of much needed sleep.... damn it) is about Peter and the chaos of emotions that are messing with his mind, I was trying to sort of get the uneasy state he is in emotionally. 
> 
> Anyways, hopefully someone will enjoy the chapter.

 

Getting dragged away from his children, _his_ children, kicked out and banished like some common stranger was infuriating. Being ordered to stay away from his children, the children he’d believed lost and dead was as devastating as it was enraging.

Peter knew that he’d done horrific things while he chased for bloodied justice. Peter was _aware_ he’d done things that were probably unforgivable, but to be denied _his_ children  was the cruellest of punishment, to be denied his children did not in Peter's mind at least fit the crimes he’d committed.

Even without his exceptional intelligence Peter would’ve known that he deserved to be punished in some sort of way for his crimes, but surely losing his children twice in one life-time couldn’t be right, it couldn’t be a befitting punishment for any of his crimes. It just wasn’t right. It wasn’t right, not right at all.

Reluctantly Peter drives away from the building that his nephew had settled in, a miserable building that had so much potential, a building befitting someone like Derek who had stopped reaching for greatness long ago.

Feeling absolutely powerless with the knowledge that there was nothing he could do at that moment, challenging his Alpha-nephew would do more harm than good at the moment, Peter began to drive away from the unnecessary hostility that seemed directed at him. Driving away from the building Peter feels dreadful, as if he was abandoning his children even though he knew that was not the case, Peter would never do such a thing. He would have his children with him once more, or he would at least die trying.

Driving away from the building that had belonged to their family, a building that had in the past been a factory, a factory that depending which generation held it in their grasp provided some wealth to both the Hale’s and any who had worked for them, however there was no use for a factory these days, but the brick building could’ve made much more use in the shape of apartments, apartments that would’ve been easily rented out to young professionals but sadly Derek had no such vision.

Fearing what he might do to his apartment if he returned to it in the state he was in, and so he ended-up driving around aimlessly while trying to control the ray of destructive emotions burning within him.

Finding his children alive, alive, and learning that he had been around them for months without knowing it, well it left him feeling shook-up to the core after all there had been a time when he could’ve easily killed Jacksie and Stiles or at least caused McCall to do it. Imagining the possible bloodied outcome that might’ve transpired when he was the alpha and out of control, it made him feel absolutely sick to his stomach so much so he had to stop the and was almost too late avoid vomiting inside his car.

Peter had been so dangerously close to killing his kids, his babies when he held hardly any sanity in his grasp. He could’ve murdered his babies and felt no regret at the moment.

`Alive. They _are_ alive. Alive. Alive. They are _alive_. ´ Peter repeats over and over again, fighting the nausea that rolled around inside his stomach, his voice was as shaky as he felt as he stood at the back of his car, a clammy hand ready to seek support from the car if need be.

`I didn’t kill them. ´ Peter tells himself as he slipped back inside the car, `They are alive. My babies are alive. ´

Sitting once more behind the wheel of his car, Peter says between slow calming breaths, `Jackie is alive, ´ his heart starting to tremble within his chest, he’s so overwhelmed by emotions as he thinks of the little boy Jackie had been before the fire as well as the young start of a man he was now; Peter was happy, thrilled, overjoyed that Jackie was alive but he was also heartbroken over missing too many milestones that Jackie had crossed. It hurt his heart to have missed so much with his beautiful child.

`Stiles is alive. ´ Peter says voice full of emotions, `Oh God, my baby boy, is alive. ´

Thinking about the baby Stiles had been, the baby he and Meredith had wanted so very-very much, a baby that he hadn’t been given a chance to be a father too. Unlike with Jackie Peter hadn’t been there to see Stiles take his first clumsy but none the less precious step, he wasn’t there to comfort his baby boy when he was sick or frightened, he hadn’t been there to roar away monsters that might hide under the bed or in the closet. Peter had missed so much, so much with Stiles, and he hadn’t been there to keep Stiles safe from abuse.

Thinking about the pain and fear his baby boy had experienced in the hands of the man who had stolen him, the sorrow he’d felt began to grow weaker and weaker as anger began to grow. His innocent child didn’t get the childhood he’d deserved, Meredith baby boy hadn’t been loved the way she’d believed he would be loved, the baby who had a big brother was denied the brother who had been so eager to be a big brother. It made Peter see red when he thought of all the things Jackie had been denied, Jackie had so many dreams and plans for his life with a baby brother. Everything, everything Peter had wanted to experience with his baby boy had been stolen, everything Jackie had wanted to do with his baby brother was denied from him.

Peter and his wolf wanted, craved, yearned to chase down every single person who stole his baby boy a childhood full of love, a childhood of safety and happiness, they wanted to disembowel those who denied Jackie the chance grow-up as a big brother, they wanted to kill everyone who had destroyed the childhoods their little ones should’ve had.

Peter and his wolf wanted bloody revenge, but Peter knew that if they became unhinged once more was something that they couldn’t afford, because Peter knew that if he appeared the slightest bit mad or feral Derek would stop him from seeing his kids again. Peter knew that if he appeared even the slightest bit dangerous then there was no chance in hell that Derek would allow him anywhere near Jackie or Stiles, and Peter was well-aware that his children wouldn’t want to be anywhere near him.

Not being a fool, Peter knew that Stiles didn’t trust him, then again Peter had a feeling Stiles didn’t trust anyone but Scott McCall. Peter wasn’t delusional enough not to know or understand Jackie’s distrust of him. Peter knew that if Stiles or Jackie saw him the slightest bit unstable, then there was no hope of his children embracing him once more as their father.

With a blazing anger burning brightly inside of him Peter goes back to driving around, the need to do something, to focus on something other than the anger pulsating within his heart.

Peter drives around fighting to regain control of his wolf, a wolf that wanted to challenge the Alpha that was denying it its pups.

Perhaps subconsciously he drives right on up to the Stilinski House, regardless if it is intentional or not he does end-up right outside the simple house, a house that seemed so very ordinary but that had been a place of fear and pain for his youngest son, and even while seated in his car Peter can positively smell the stench of Stiles miserable life inside the Stilinski House. Peter could smell the fear and pain, he could smell the blood Stiles had bled, he could smell the tears that Stiles had cried. The stench of Stiles misery makes it impossible for Peter not to snap.

A loud growl leaves him as he glares at the house of Sheriff Stilinski, a man who claimed to uphold the law, a man who should’ve protected and loved Stiles instead of tormenting him with such horrific cruelty.

It hurt his heart to know that the baby he and Meredith had wanted so much, so very-very much, the baby that had been loved so greatly even before he’d been born, to known that their beautiful baby boy had been abused so unfairly by someone who had a chance to love and cherish him the way Peter would’ve done. The pain he felt over the loveless upbringing Stiles had endured when there had been so many that had loved him long before his birth, the pain was so great that Peter could hardly breathe.

How often had Peter caught his sister cradling his baby boy, singing to him softly, praising the baby for simply being? How often had he walked in on the kids watching over the sleeping baby? It hurt to know that Stiles had no memory or knowledge of how loved he had once been, how wanted he had been by his true family.

There are no doubts in Peter’s mind that if Laura had known Jackie and his baby brother were alive, she would’ve taken them with her and Derek; there is no doubt in his mind that if Laura had been the one to care for the baby and Jackie, their lives would’ve been so much different, and Stiles’ life would’ve been so much better.

By the heavens, Peter really wants to set the dreadful house on fire and watch it burn. He wants to burn this small building to the ground with Sheriff Stilinski still inside it. Peter really wants to destroy the abusive bastard with the same weapon that had destroyed his own family and pack, but he knows such an act would make him more of a monster in the eyes of his children, but he wants it none the less.

Peter however couldn’t afford to appear more of a deranged individual than what he already had or did appear to be, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from getting out of the car and walking straight-up to the house that reeked of Stiles’ suffering.

He knew, he knew he should stay away. He knew, he knew that he should head home to his miserable apartment, and once there that he should take time and make a battleplan that would serve both him and his abused son well, but the werewolf simply couldn’t leave the abusive bastard just be, not without making the abusive bastard aware that his days were numbered. He needed to make it clear to the Sheriff that Stiles had his daddy back now, and Peter would break every fucking bone in Sheriff Stilinski’s body if he so much as looked at Stiles ever again.

Without knocking Peter entered the dreadful house of horrors, he can positively hear his late-mother disapprovingly call out his name before complaining about his poor manners, about his poor manners, the house reeked of so much negative emotions that it almost made him ill.

It is positively dizzying how strong the stench of Stiles suffering was, the smell seemed to have seeped into the floor and falls, and everything within the four-walls, and it told him Stiles had spent years being abused.

Peter follows the pained groans and curses that came from the direction of the small and unimpressive kitchen, Peter moves with a deadly silence, his eyes taking in the details of a few framed pictures, each image held the woman who had stolen Meredith’s title of mother; seeing this false-mother, this thief, hugging his and Meredith’s little boy.

Although he has no time to waste on these images, he does still notice that the little boy in the pictures doesn’t appear as comfortable as Jackie had been with his mother, there’s something false about Stiles’ smile and something uneasy in Stiles’ young eyes, Peter sees fear in the eyes of his son telling Peter that Stiles’ life had been far worse than he’d imagined it to have been. A toddler shouldn’t appear nervous, anxious, fearful when hugged by a person the viewed as their mother.   
Seeing evidence that Stiles’ innocence had been crushed far too soon, causes Peter’s heart to break, the wolf to demand the blood of the Stilinski’s to paint its fangs and claws.

Walking into the small kitchen where he found disturbingly spotless, well spotless if you ignored the drops of Sheriff Stilinski’s blood.

Peter finds the Sheriff seated at a small table, head tilted back with a bag of frozen peas pressed against his bruised cheek, rolled-up pieces of tissue were stuck in the bloodied nostrils of the man who had abused his son. Even now the Sheriff sat there with one hand wrapped around a bottle of liquor.

Moving quietly over to the man who had for years pretended to be a good father of the clever boy that was Stiles, but Sheriff Stilinski was no father, a real and true father would never intentionally harm their child. This drunk was nothing more than an abusive piece of shit that someone should’ve sent down to the Devils doorstep.

Peter approaches the angry man who even now curses and threatens Stiles’ well-being, hearing this sadistic piece of filth say he would break the fragile bones of his little boy, hearing the truth in the threats made breaks the last chain keeping Peter from doing something violent.

With claws replacing his well-manicured human fingernails Peter grabbed the man by his breakable throat, digging his claws into the flesh without the intent to kill even if there was a desire to see the life of this filth drain away.

Peter is pretty sure Sheriff Stilinski’s blood would reek of alcohol and run black from all the horrible, terrible, inhuman deeds he had done.

`Shit. ´ the man who reeks of alcohol croaks, dropping the bag of peas and dropping the bottle as his hands reach out the grasp at Peter’s wrist and arm, the cheap liquid spilling over the floor when the bottle breaks against the once clean floor.

`Fuck. ´ the brutal man curses eyes growing wider and wider as he stares up at Peter.

`Evening Stilinski. ´ Peter growls, squeezing the easily breakable throat a little bit tighter.

`Shit. ´ the man who had every opportunity to love Stiles, the man who had every goddamn chance to care for Stiles the way Peter had been denied, croaks while clawing and Peter’s arm and wrist.

`Surprised? ´ Peter asks voice a low and deadly growl, his now surely less than human face so close that their noses almost touched, the Sheriff started to truly fight against Peter’s hold, but although Sheriff Stilinski could beat a small boy easily enough Stilinski was no match to the likes of Peter Hale.

`I bet you aren’t as surprised as I was, ´ Peter snarls, increasing the pressure against the throat Peter would love to see cut wide open, but Peter knows he has to keep back the bloodied desire that burns in the pit of his stomach, ` to learn that my children aren’t dead at all – but alive. ´

Pure fear flashes across the bruised and bloodied face.

`You…´ the Sheriff wheezes, the alcoholic breath displeasing to Peter’s sensitive nose.

`You reek. ´ Peter spits out at the man who didn’t deserve any kindness from Peter or the rest of the world, this man deserved no respect or goodness, all he truly deserved was the same sort of misery and pain Peter and his whole family had suffered.

`Now I’m no fool. ´ Peter tells the disgusting man who doesn’t know how truly bound Peter’s hands are at the moment, if it wasn’t for his babies Peter would let his wolf out to play. The delicious scent of Stilinski’s fear, which grows in potency as Peter allows more of his beast out for the man to see.

` And even if I was, it doesn’t take much for a man to smell the foul stench of an Argent dog. ´ Peter tells the Sheriff of Beacon Hills, a man who no doubt had a hand in tampering with any evidence that would’ve pointed at arson and the Argents, his voice his low and deadly, the threatening growl constantly rumbling in his chest.

`But the question is, how long have you been their dog? ´ Peter ask none too gently while digging his claws just a little bit deeper, bringing his face close enough to the Sheriff’s for their noses to touch now, his sharp eyes searching for the answer in those ugly little eyes that had seen his son grow-up when Peter couldn’t.

` Did you help that bitch burn my family to ashes? ´ Peter asks, giving the man a little shake.

` Did you stand out there listening? Did you stand out there, listening as we burned? ´ Peter asks the wolf becoming more prominent in his features as he continues to speak, and he struggles to keep the beast from escaping his hold; if he lost control of his wolf then Stilinski would die, and with the Sheriff’s death Peter’s hopes of having Jackie and Stiles back with him would die as well.

`Did you hear our screams? ´ Peter asks, his voice full of emotions as the frightened, desperate, pained cries of his family begin to ring once more in his ears.

Fighting back his tears, forcing his anger to beat down the grief and pain he felt for the great loss he had suffered, Peter goes on to demand more answers as he asks, ` Did you hear our cries? Did you enjoy yourself? ´

The Sheriff does his best to shake his head then, shaking his head with an air of desperation, croaking out a truly feeble denial of responsibility of the horrors that happened years ago.

Although Peter can’t hear a solid lie upon his tongue or in the heartbeat of the abusive drunkard, who swore he hadn’t been aware of what Kate Argent had been up too, but Peter can also tell this isn’t a truth so solid it could not be questioned.

Peter glares into the bloodshot eyes, seeking a clue to what was the part of Sheriff Stilinski in the destruction of Peter’s family and pack, and there’s only one answer to the question that feels right to him and he brings out his suspicions in the form of a simple enough question.

`Was my son – was he the reward you got for helping protecting the Argents? Was he the payment for helping them destroy my family? ´ Peter asks before easing his grip ever so slight, just enough to cause the so-called man of the law to answer him in more than a shake of his head.

`No. ´ the Sheriff tells him, the fear that had been in his pale eyes replaced with bitter anger as Stilinski continues to say, `He was – he was just an unwanted bonus that I was handed because you – you came stumbling out of the house with your little bastards. ´

Peter sees red at that moment, and before he could control himself Peter raises his fist and punched him without holding back, Peter doesn’t even think about where his punches land. Peter hits the man several times, but stops before he end-ups killing the disgusting bastard who was the true monster in this horrible tale.

`Know this Stilinski,´ Peter snarls into the broken face of a man who clearly thinks Peter will end him, `if you go after my children, I will NOT hesitate to break every bone in your body. If you go after my babies, I will burn you alive. ´ Without another word Peter shoves the man away from him, causing the man who was close to losing his consciousness to drop to the floor.

Before leaving the Stilinski House, or as Peter would call it the house of horrors, Peter walks around taking pictures of his son and his son alone, one of these pictures was of a toddler-Stiles who looked so happy hugging a large and heavy looking floppy-eared bunny. 


	15. Rest and Review

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings everybody... or who ever still reads my stuff. How are you doing? Well I hope. 
> 
> So here's a little chapter, tiny chapter, one focused on Jackson who may or may not be a bit of a asshole here, then again he's not had the easiest of nights first learning he's got a little brother and it's the kid he's been horrible too, and not only that his baby brother has been abused... not a good night for Jackie. 
> 
> This chapter is written by a sleep-deprived individual so if it makes no sense at all, then I do apologize... but people, bats are fascinating creatures and cute too.
> 
> Oh! And before anyone asks me, I do not hate Isaac, these negative views, thoughts, and so on found in this chapter are the views of bitter and angry Jackson. And I do not hate Derek Hale either, again all Jackson's negative views here. 
> 
> And now lets hope I manage to post this chapter, since this is my fifth-bloody-try.

 

Jackson knows he _should_ head on home, _home_ to the people whom he'd called his parents for _years. Home_ to the people he still called his parents. He needs to head on home, _home_ to the people with whom he shared so many memories with, and who'd always treated him well even when he'd behaved like the worst spoiled brat in the whole damn world, and who would do _anything_ to keep him happy. Jackson knows he has to talk to the Whittemore's who'd adopted him but not Stiles, and he wants to know why it was only him that they'd adopted and not the baby that had been with him. He wants to understand why he and Stiles were separated, why he had been raised to think he was an only child.

 

Hadn't they known about Stiles?

 

There were so many questions he needed to ask his parents, the ones who gave him _everything_ and _anything_ he'd ever asked for, even  after he'd stopped telling them he loved them the Whittemore's continued to give him anything he asked for. Jackson couldn't help but think that if the Whittemore's had adopted both him and Stiles that life could've and would've been so much better, not just for Stiles but for him as well, life could've been that much easier and less confusing for the both  of them if they had been adopted together.

 

Jackson knows that if Stiles had been adopted with him, if they'd stayed together that his little brother would've _never_ suffered the way he had done in the hands of Sheriff Stilinski. If only Stiles had been allowed to stay with Jackson then his little brother would've grown-up like a little prince, and Jackson could've been the big-brother he now knows he should've been to Stiles. 

 

He knows that he should go back to these people with whom he shared far more memories with than what he did with Peter Hale, Jackson knows he has to leave Stiles' side for Stiles' safety. Jackson needs to talk to his parents, but there's an unwillingness in him to leave his little brother when he was clearly unwell not to mention confused and afraid. 

 

There was now some doubt in Jackson mind when it came to how safe his little brother would be at the loft, after all Peter Hale had not too long ago just strolled into the loft like he owned the damn place. The psycho _had_ threatened the both of them, perhaps not with violence but Peter _had_ threatened them none the less, and Jackson worried that the crazy bastard would somehow get to Stiles while he wasn't there to protect him. 

 

Not knowing what Peter Hale might do if he got to Stiles, made Jackson's stomach hurt and his heart race. Jackson doesn't know what he'd do if the unhinged bastard that was their biological-father got to Stiles, the older-Hale might manipulate and use Stiles for unspeakable things, or he might just hurt or kill Stiles after all he'd killed his own niece _and_ attacked Lydia. 

 

Jackson is very much tempted to just gather his little brother up and leave the loft with him, but where could he go with Stiles? He wasn't entirely sure about the Whittemore's or what they might do if he came home with Stiles. Would they call the Sheriff? Jackson couldn't blindly trust the Whittemore's with Stiles life or safety, not at least yet, not until he knew for certain that his little brother would be safe around the Whittemore's. 

 

Jackson wasn't willing to risk Lydia's safety by taking Stiles to her house, although he was certain she'd help him if he asked her, she might play the ice-queen but Jackson knew that beneath all the fragile levels of ice was a good heart, one only a few were ever allowed to experience. Risking Danny's life and safety was also out of the question, there was simply no telling what the mentally unhinged werewolf would do to get to Stiles, and knowing Danny there was no doubt in Jackson's mind that his best friend wouldn't allow psycho-Hale to leave with Stiles without a fight. 

These are truly uneasy times for Jackson.  One wrong move could be the end his efforts to become the big brother he wanted to be. There's no room left for Jackson to make mistakes when it comes to his little brother, not after all the horrendous mistakes he'd already made when it came to Stiles.

 

The amount of shame Jackson felt over the way he'd treated his little brother in the past, was beyond understanding. Only earlier that day Jackson had shoved Stiles around without giving a damn whether or not younger boy was hurt in the process, he'd made fun of the kid who was too young for high school and yet ten times brighter than Jackson could ever hope to be.

 

How many times had he spat words hurtful and cruel at the wide-eyed kid who had done nothing to deserve such treatment?  Stiles had  done _nothing_ to deserve the horrible treatment Jackson had showered him with on an almost daily basis, even during the weekends Jackson had always found time to remind Stiles that he was worthless and stupid.

 

Tears are starting to sting his eyes as Jackson thinks back to how cruel he'd been to the little kid, a kid who became the target of Jackson' insecurities, his anger and frustration. Perhaps if Stiles hadn't walked up to him, asking for help in finding his way into one of the few classes he didn't share with McCall, then Jackson may have picked someone else to torment and maybe then things could've been easier for them. Then again, Jackson probably would've still zeroed in on the little kid that shouldn't have been in high school, after all Stiles was smarter than him and clearly had a crush on Jackson's girlfriend. 

 

 For the rest of his life Jackson would try and do right by Stiles, and he'd protect his little brother from now on, and God help anyone who would try and harm Stiles. Jackson would spend the rest of his life trying to undo the damage he'd done to Stiles. 

 

Jackson really doesn't want to leave Stiles, he can't help but worry what might happen if Stiles did wake-up while he was gone. He wants to stay at Stiles' side, to take care of him the way he should've done from day one when Stiles had walked into his life asking for help in finding his way around Beacon Hills High School, but  Jackson needs to talk with the man he'd called dad for many years and still did in public and in his thoughts, he needs to speak to the woman he called mom, he needs to talk to the people who had adopted him perhaps not entirely legally but who had raised him none the less. 

 

Jackson has to figure out where the loyalties of the Whittemore's stood, his next move with Stiles depended upon their answers. 

 

Carefully tucking his little brother beneath the covers, Jackson does his best to try and forget about the dreadful marks of abuse that littered the far too thin body of his little brother. Bruises and cuts and welts covered the body that was far too young to have been made to suffer so, and Jackson had documented most of them regardless of how wrong it had felt to take pictures of Stiles' little and abused body, but Jackson needed proof, proof that what he was about to tell his parents was true, and if these pictures weren't enough to get the Whittemore's on his side then Jackson would know where they stood. 

 

`I've got to go. ´ Jackson tells his unconscious brother, a little brother he hadn't even recalled  having, a little brother he didn't even remember losing even though he'd once held him tightly in his little arms while their birth-parents struggled to cling to life.

 

 `I promise I'll be back soon. You just rest Stiles. ´ Jackson whispered softly before leaning down to kiss the worryingly warm forehead. There's now a fever whispering beneath Stiles pale and bruised skin, and the threat of it rising is one of the reasons that keeps Jacksons from moving his brother around. 

 

 Reluctantly Jackson leaves Stiles to sleep, to hopefully sleep away his fever. It feels wrong, terribly and horribly wrong to leave Stiles. It simply didn't seem right to leave Stiles when he was clearly unwell and confused. Jackson had no doubts about how ready his little brother was to just head back to the abusive man that had beat him black and blue, and some small part of Jackson understands it, after all to Stiles the Sheriff was the only family he had left.

 

 However reluctant he was to leave Stiles, Jackson had no other choice if he truly wanted to keep Stiles safe from the Sheriff as well as Peter Hale, and so Jackson took his uneasy leave from his little brother. 

 

Making his way back to where the Alpha and his beta were gathered, talking in hushed voices in clear attempt not to disturb Stiles' much needed rest, Jackson hears Hale questioning Isaac on what had happened at the Stilinski House but the Alpha ends the whisper conversation swiftly when noticing Jackson.

`How is he? ´ Hale asks with an air of genuine concern evident in his voice, it was a as big of a change as Jackson's new interest in Stiles was.

 

It was strange how learning that Stiles was related to them changed everything about how they viewed and suddenly cared for him. Jackson knows it isn't right that it takes knowing that they are related to make either one of them suddenly invested in Stiles' well-being. 

 

`Resting. ´ is all Jackson says letting his uneasiness come out in the form of anger, he'd rather appear hostile and angry than weak in any sort of way, `What else would you expect him to be doing? Maybe tap dancing with a couple of penguins? ´

Jackson is expecting Hale to snap at him, to growl at him, but instead the Alpha goes on simply to say, `I was thinking I should call Scott, ´ the suggestion to call the idiot friend of Stiles is an unwanted surprise Jackson doesn't care for, and he has no interest in dealing with such a stupid suggestion of action, after all what use could some half-wit like McCall be to Stiles now?

 

`And why would we call McCall? ´ Jackson asks without trying to hide how truly done he was with everyone, _everyone_ but Stiles.

 

`To ask if his mom could come and take a look as Stiles. ´ Hale goes on to say again choosing to ignore Jackson's hostility.

 

The idea of having his little brother checked-on by the nurse it does seem like a good idea to Jackson, but it also seemed equally as bad of an idea as it did a good one. Could they trust Melissa McCall, could she be trusted not to tell the Sheriff where Stiles was, could they be sure she wouldn't call someone who would whisk Stiles away from Jackson?

 

There were far too many ways calling McCall's mom could go wrong for him and Stiles.

 

`I think - I think we should call Scott and his mom. ´ Lahey says, he sounds timid and is clearly trying his best not to look at Jackson, it seemed for once that the stupidly curly haired idiot found his own feet incredibly interesting.

 

`Who asked you? ´ Jackson hisses at the stupidly tall teen, and he doesn't feel bad at all about the way he made Lahey flinch, after all why should he give a damn about someone like Lahey? The idiot probably just made things worse for Stiles and him by attacking the Sheriff. Not to mention he knew for a fact that Lahey hadn't been a saint around Stiles, if anything Lahey had been working on replacing Stiles as McCall's best friend thus leaving Stiles even more alone than he'd ever been before. 

 

`Jackson. ´ Derek growls in warning, moving to stand between him and Lahey. The protective gesture rubs Jackson the wrong way, it annoys him to once more witness how protective Hale was of Lahey.

 

What sort of an Alpha was Derek Hale? What sort of Alpha was he when he couldn't even pick-up on the pain Stiles lived with? Hale hadn't seemed to worried about Stiles who was human, Stiles was human and far too young to fight monsters that could rip him to pieces at any moment, but Lahey was protected by Hale even if he was a werewolf and could heal easily from broken bones while a bruise on Stiles took _days_ to heal and vanish.

`Whatever. ´ Jackson huffs in annoyance and starts to t make his way to the nearest exit, he's got no time or want to deal with Hale or his stupid beta, and frankly the faster he gets to his parents the sooner he will be able to return to Stiles' side.

 

`Just don't call McCall. ´ Jackson tells Hale who is uselessly following him, the action annoying Jackson even more than what was really necessary.

 

There's a small seedling of hope that his parents, the Whittemore's, will help him keep his little brother safe, the history of always getting what he wanted gave Jackson's hope life. There's no denying that he is hoping that once he's talked with his parents that he'll be able to remove Stiles permanently from the Sheriff's abusive care. Jackson hopes that with the help of the Whittemore's he'll be able to take Stiles out of Hale's and Lahey's reach, he doesn't trust either male not to try and influence Stiles in ways that would work against Jackson's attempts to fix things between him and Stiles. 

 

Ignoring his so-called cousin Jackson forcefully opens the heavy door that wouldn't keep Peter Hale from walking into the loft he was determined to do so, and without glancing behind him Jackson steps out of the loft before barking out furiously at Hale who was moving towards him, `And lock this goddamn door you idiot. ´

 

Jackson closes the door with far too much force, his anger growing as he thinks of his little brother stuck with the idiot Alpha who clearly had no idea about how locks worked, and who'd probably defend Lahey's life over Stiles' if his demented uncle came calling. 

 

Jackson doesn't make it far, only a few steps down the old and creaky stairs before Hal's there grabbing him by the arm, the grip painfully strong.

 

`Where are you going? ´ the older-male asks, his dumb thick eyebrows appear to glare as much as his eyes do, the voice of the alpha is ttight and angry, he's clearly unhappy with being ignored then again when was the werewolf happy? Derek Hale seemed like a man determined to forever be a growly miserable bastard.

 

`None of your business. ´ Jackson snaps while trying to free himself from the unyielding hold, which clearly pushes some invisible button for suddenly Jackson is pinned against the dusty wall of the old and rickety staircase.

 

The usual amount of violence that Jackson expected wasn't there, proving that although Hale didn't like him being related to one another seemed to hold at least some power over Hale. Of course, Jackson shouldn't be surprised by Hale's weakness for family by blood, after all his uncle was still alive and around even after killing Hale's sister who was Jackson's and Stiles' cousin no less.

 

 `Jackson. ´ Hale growls but Jackson is having none of his bullshit and pushes back as hard as he can, and for once Hale does move back, but he does so by choice and not because Jackson was suddenly stronger than him.

 

`Where are you going? ´ Hale asks, his voice still a bit too growly to suggest that the man wasn't still angry and annoyed with Jackson and his behaviour.

 

`That's none of your business. ´ Jackson snaps at Hale who doesn't really have any rights to question him and his actions, they are only family by blood and even that link is a bloody weak one.

 

`Jackson. ´ Hale growls in frustration, 

 

`Just, ´ Jackson starts while stepping away from his would-be cousin, `just don't let Stiles leave. You hear me? ´ Jackson tells the alpha while making another move to leave.

 

 `If anything happens to him I will...´ Jackson starts but Hale cuts him off swiftly.

` You think I'd let anything happen to him? ´ the question is made with an air of disgust, surprising really as anger was more of natural of a state to Hale.

 

`You haven't given a damn about him before. ´ Jackson counters sharply, feeling a smidge of pride by the way his words seem to strike Hale, but the flicker of hurt that he sees in Derek Hale's eyes is swiftly removed and replaced by a hard glare.

 

`Neither have you. ´ the Alpha says and his words cut deep. 

 

The short but sharp statement hits Jackson right in the gut, it leaves him quiet, lost for words and Jackson hates it, Jackson loathes it when he's left speechless, he hates it with all his might when he is rendered silent.

 

`Fuck you. ´ Jackson spits out furiously, glaring up at the Alpha, Jackson knew it wasn't the greatest of responses and Jackson knew it. Usually Jackson was much more creative and capable in his responses, but at that moment Jackson wasn't at his best, his thoughts occupied fully by his little brother who just happens to be the kid he's been bullying for far too long.

 

`Just do your part. Keep Stiles here, and keep him safe. ´ is the last thing Jackson says before hurrying down stairs, ignoring the demands of made for him to wait, Jackson doesn't give a damn about what Derek Hale wants all Jackson cares about is himself and now Stiles.

 


End file.
